


The Arena

by Shmeebly



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Between meeting the Blade of Marmora and Season 2 Finale, Don't kill Shiro, Horroresque because I can't help myself, Multi, OC, Violence, blade of marmora, space, team voltron - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 00:45:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 36,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11703252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shmeebly/pseuds/Shmeebly
Summary: The Blade of Marmora has requested Team Voltron to assist with an undercover mission. When Shiro discovers where it will take place and who is involved, buried memories resurface it's up to Voltron to bring balance and justice back to the universe.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really post much of my writing, least of all my fanfiction. I write for an audience of one, me. Maybe it's time to change that. This is only one of the gratuitous amounts of writings I have stored away on my computer somewhere. Any and all constructive criticism is much appreciated. Enjoy. I'm also on DA: http://tumiaartstudio.deviantart.com/
> 
> Original Characters in this story:
> 
> Ankary Blackwell: http://tumiaartstudio.deviantart.com/art/Ankary-Blackwell-665722933  
> Mistress Amelia: http://tumiaartstudio.deviantart.com/art/Mistress-Amelia-665722939

     “Shiro, where we going?” Lance asked in a bored tone. The blue paladin slumped back in his seat on the bridge, swishing his chair back and forth. Pidge was busy locking onto the coordinates she was given. Hunk was asleep in his seat. Keith remained quiet and stoic like always. Princess Allura stood at the helm with a determined look on her face. Coran was busy doing whatever in the engine room and Shiro was deep in thought as he gazed over his own console.

      “We have a rescue mission Thace put us in charge of carrying out,” he intentionally remained vague and distant in his response, hoping it would satisfy not only Lance’s curiosity, but that of the others as well. It didn’t.

     “The whole universe is our rescue mission. What makes this one so urgent?”

      “Because the longer we wait, the less time we have to save lives. Sit tight and we’ll get there.”

     “Uh, Shiro? These coordinates Thace gave you leads really deep into Galra territory. Are you sure this is where we need to go?” Pidge asked. She looked over at him and lifted a concerned brow. Shiro nodded, a sense of surety in his eyes. He knew what he was doing and so did Thace. He trusted him. Pidge looked back at her virtual computer monitors when the coordinates pulled up a view of the destination. It didn’t look pretty. A massive ship sat in orbit around a red looking planet, Galra in architecture. The dark color of the ship had a sinister contrast with the red and the sharp, angular edges didn’t make it any less threatening.

     Shiro glanced over at the view on Pidge’s screen and a wave of anxiety rushed through him. Just the sight of that thing filled him with dread. If any of the paladins were focusing on him, he was sure they would see color drain from his face and cold sweat run down his neck. He took a deep, steady breath and looked ahead. Coran gave a vague order that it was clear for them to jump through a wormhole. Allura concentrated on her Altean energy that drew quintessence in to power the jump. The circlet on her forehead emitted a bluish glow and then a massive hole ripped through the spacetime in front of them. In what was only seconds they entered the wormhole and crossed who knows how many light years through space.

     The red planet was the first thing that everyone saw. It was somewhere between the size of Earth and Neptune visually, made of gas by the looks of it. The stormy swirling patterns mimicked Jupiter, but not as violent and not as much variety in color. No distinguishable moons orbited the planet, instead just clumps of space debris took their place. The star that the planet circled was big and red in color up close, dwarfing the paladin’s home star.

     Shiro could feel a cold chill run up his spine. He never wanted to see this damned place again. There was a nag in the back of his throat that wanted his stomach to evacuate its contents and dizziness was settling in. Sparks of electricity made his skin crawl and he could feel the undying urge in his hands to grip onto the manual controls and turn away. He can’t. Whatever horrendous memories his mind wanted to block, he can’t turn back. The Blade of Marmora entrusted them with a mission. He was pulled from his thoughts when someone asked, “What…is this place?”

     Shiro looked over to see Keith staring at him, obvious worry in his eyes. Leave it to Keith to know when he was not okay. He looked away; he had no room to show his team that he was anything less than a strong leader. “There’s radio waves emitting from this base, I’m locking onto them now,” Pidge said. She pressed a few buttons and slid her fingers across the screen in front of her. Altean texts displayed on the bigger computer screen for everyone to see, changing the code rapidly until it could translate the emission. Once deciphered, a visual monitor popped up showing what the base was broadcasting.

     It looked to be viewing the inside like from a high tech camera. The scene showed a circular room with a deep circular stage in the middle. Around the stage sat a multitude of aliens, the majority of them being Galra. They cheered wildly like fans at a football stadium. The camera moved about the atrium, closer to the stage. For a brief moment the camera rested on the patron of this event, sitting in the front row in their one designated seat that would fit an Emperor of Rome. The patron was Galra, naturally, one that Shiro didn’t recognize. By the way they were surrounded by guards and one or two mistresses, and the way they were dressed in opulent clothing said something about their high rank. They looked burly enough with a few scars and war paint on their face, a captain or commander maybe?

     The camera switched viewpoints down to the interesting part, the stage. It was more like a pit really; dirt and rocky structures littered the ground. Traces of different colored slashes decorated the scenery, but not for decorative intentions. It was blood, alien blood. Battered and torn portions that looked like tissue were strewn about in obscure manner…organs of different species. Shiro could barely keep from vomiting at the sight as flashes of those same images from the past popped up into his head. He dared a glance at his other teammates to see their reactions; they were all similar in nature. In everyone’s eyes was a mixture of sorrow, rage and mortified. Shiro looked back at the screen.

     The camera panned over to show a massive looking alien. This one looked more like a body builder with all of the muscles that bulged tightly under what looked like fur in a greenish blue hue. The alien had 3 limbs and a tail, all massive in their own right. The only scrap of clothing they had were torn and ragged spandex type material around their legs and waist, the rest was just fur. Whatever race this alien was, it didn’t look good. Multiple injuries and gashes were painted on the fur, matting it and tangling with other colors of blood. There was text at the bottom of the screen, something written in Galra. Shiro could read the language on a basic level from spending so much time around it. The top text was the name of the alien followed by a description on the bottom, usually saying something about the species and their combat ability.

     Lastly the camera panned over to the opponent on the other side of the ring, and Shiro froze. He knew that opponent. He felt his heart stop when he saw them. The opponent, he’s met him before, fought with him before. Determination to win was still a fire burning in their eyes. Survival was the only goal for Shiro and thanks to this opponent, he made it out alive. He watched as another display of text popped up on the screen, reading the name in Galra that he’d come to recognize: Ankary Blackwell.

     Ankary appeared mostly human. He had pale white skin and long black hair that stopped at about mid-back, pulled into a loose ponytail behind him with a few rogue strands hanging around his shoulders. The front most part of his hair stemmed from a deep widows peak, framing his face into an ‘M’ shape. What didn’t make him human was obvious. His ears came to a point, but that wasn’t really the most unusual part about him. Two cream colored horns curled up from his temples into sharp points. Claws at the tips of his fingers were kept sharp and ready. Next to the long serpentine fangs embedded into his teeth, a black forked tongue could easily slip out when he hissed. A deep crimson red covered his eyes, hiding any sclera, iris or pupil, but he had better eye sight than most known creatures.

     The most prominent part of him was his tail. It was one and a half times his height when it came to length and it was powerful, thick at the diamond shaped base and slender as it reached out to the end where a long half arrow shaped spade was his most deadly weapon. The black scales were tougher than any armor, nothing could cut through it. All together his inborn weapons juxtaposed the small frame he had, lithe and slender.

     The body suit he wore did not show any traces of skin, but the form fitting did not make it any more comfortable. He wasn’t the only one who wore a full body suit with a tattered, purplish loose over shirt that fit the whole ensemble that all of the other prisoners wore. The only differences were the white metal bands around his biceps, lined with two thick crimson stripes on the ends. For protective purposes, Shiro guessed.

     Based on his own uniform he wore in the past, Shiro knew how uncomfortable they were. He remembered feeling embarrassed when he had to wear it, like it was revealing everything without showing anything. By the way Ankary moved, the prisoner uniform seemed to suit him. Built for speed and agility, Shiro had witnessed just how flexible and agile he was when he was a prisoner, like a gymnast. He looked a little roughed up, but otherwise no incapacitating injuries were seen. This wasn’t a fair fight. However, fighting here never was fair.

     “Shiro?” The voice snapped him from his trance, looking at the screen. He turned his head to see Keith looking at him. “Is this…” He didn’t need to finish the thought for the black paladin to understand. Instead of answering he looked back at the screen and just watched as Ankary stood firm in his stance, even if he looked ready to collapse. There was a cheer in the crowd, something that Shiro recognized and absolutely dreaded. It was the same chant he heard when he was stuck in that same position. VICTORY! VICTORY! VICTORY!

     Ankary looked around at the audience, bearing his fangs in an angry snarl at them. He looked down at his opponent, who could not fight any longer. The paladins couldn’t do anything but witness as he crouched down to look the burly alien in the eye. He pressed a gentle hand to the muzzle and the thing closed their eyes. Ankary raised his tail blade high and harshly struck it down right through the thing’s throat. Blood sputtered out of the powerful blow and the audience’s cry turned frantic. Seeing that only made Shiro’s gut twist into a tight knot. Allura gasped at the sight and the others remained still. Shiro’s voice was scarcely above a whisper, “Welcome to the Arena.”


	2. Chapter 2

     Ankary looked into his opponent’s eyes and connected with its soul. What he saw was the same thing he’s seen since he got here. There was no blood thirst in this soul, just a scared innocence that was forced here to fight for the entertainment of the Galra. A plaything, sent to die or kill just so they could get a rush of seeing an absolute slaughter. He heard a deep throated whine, quiet to all but his ears. It didn’t want to die, but it could no longer continue fighting.

     Even with his best efforts saving the body would be impossible. He passed a silent message to it by gently pressing his hand to the muzzle. Hopefully it would feel peace knowing that it won’t have to fight anymore. There was a special place for souls like this one. The alien’s aura seemed to get the message that wasn’t spoken and a wave of forgiveness radiated through the invisible essence. Solemnly he raised his blade at the end of his tail and struck down with a powerful force that sliced right through the throat, puncturing anything and everything vital so the kill was quick, clean and merciful. The opponent was still.

     The roar of the audience was deafening. It took only 5 minutes or so to take the beast down, but the audience loved it as if watching the best show for the last 3 or so hours. He glanced up at the screen to see his name in the Galra language declared as victor. He was appreciative of his extensive knowledge on other languages both spoken and written, even if he couldn’t functionally speak any of them. Knowing a vast majority of the most common languages in existence, Galran was among those somewhere. If he had been born with a voice, it would make communication a lot easier, but that sadly wasn’t the case.

     “This match belongs to the undefeated Ankary Blackwell!” The announcer called out over the hysteria. The aura from his opponent finally faded away with its soul, transcending into whatever plane of existence this species belonged to. Unlike all other Dayans, Ankary actually had a heart thanks to his hybrid heritage. He was mostly Dayan in nature, showing absolutely no mercy on his enemies and taking a sick twisted pleasure in watching them suffer at his whim, but when it came to innocence like this soul, he felt sick. The Galra do not hold life sacred as far as he knew. The value of a soul was far less than dirt by any means in Galran eyes.

     What happened next was to be expected by him and the arena handlers. The drones came out onto the battle field to clean up the mess, and return whoever was alive back to their holding cells to rest until the next time they fought. Ankary hissed viciously at them when he saw the various tools in their grasps. The “handlers” pinned him down to lock the restraints around him. He hissed and thrashed, but too many hands were on him and he couldn’t get a good hold anywhere.

     His arms were bound behind his back wrist to elbow, a guard locked around his blade, heavy in weight to decrease strength in lifting it. His jaw was forced open and a metal muzzle pushed inside, injecting his fangs into the soft padding provided. This was something the handlers had to adapt to because they learned that his fangs were venomous and the reaction was like acid, eating and corroding everything it touched at his will. His muscles screamed at him to stop moving, but he was too stubborn for that. He fought the whole way back to his cell.

     It was the same routine after every fight. The only way to get him to heel was to restrain him. There was no way he would give them the satisfaction of willingly being led back to his cell. There were a few times where he almost overpowered the handlers, but that was short lived as they ultimately subdued him and adapted to his resistance. How demeaning to have to walk back to a holding cell after failing to escape. Prisoners aren’t allowed any dignity.

     Ankary was led back through the hallways below the arena, unable to fight even if he wanted to. His tail dragged behind him uselessly, the guard protecting whatever the razor sharp edge and tips came in contact with. Instead of being pushed into his cell as he expected, he was escorted to a separate area away from the holding cells all together. The handlers spoke among themselves. They talked comfortably as if they thought he didn’t know their language, but he did. One asked if ‘His Lordship’ would prefer he had a bath and a change of uniform before a meeting, considering he just came out of a battle. The other replied with a nonchalant manner that it was fine, his lordship didn’t care about his condition.

     Not much more of the conversation could be heard before he was left alone in a room. The suite was fair in size, with comfortable decoration, but nothing too fancy. This was an arena, not a hotel. There was strange looking furniture that Ankary could only guess the purpose. Interacting with different races and people with their customs and taste in interior design differed too greatly for him to focus on just one and keep the memory there. He did recognize a desk with a chair, a bed, and a few drawers, but the rest was unknown.

     “I don’t know how you manage to keep up such resilience for hours out there, seems exhausting,” Ankary whirled around to find the owner of the voice. Sitting comfortably in a cushioned chair was a face that instantly calmed his nerves. Thace. The tension in his muscles relaxed as the Galra commander smirked at him. The alien was almost twice his size and athletic in build. The yellow eyes and purple fur were something that Ankary came to antagonize, but not Thace. His aura was relaxed, approachable. “I can’t imagine how frustrated the handlers are if they have to tackle you just to restrain you after every day’s final match.” Ankary halfheartedly glared at him, only making Thace laugh.

     He stood up from his seat and rounded to Ankary’s back. He worked at the restraints on his arms until they were freed. Ankary’s hands instantly shot to the back of his head to unlatch the muzzle in his mouth. The muzzle came off and he pulled it out, freeing his fangs and his jaw. He coughed and threw the thing on the floor. His body felt looser and the last thing to come off was the guard on his tail. Again he had full motion of it and that always felt good.

     “I have something to discuss with you, but we can do that after you’ve had a bath. I thought you might appreciate a private bath instead of smelling the stink of other prisoners in a crowded shower room.” Ankary bowed his head in thanks and retreated to the bathroom to wash up. It was rare here that he got a chance to bathe alone and in a decent, sanitary place. The basin that served as a tub was already full of hot, fresh water. He shed his clothes and stepped in.

     The hot water felt so relaxing against his sore muscles and abused skin. The silence was also welcomed. Here he didn’t have to worry about languid eyes watching him or risk the chance that he might be jumped by a prisoner drunk on his naturally alluring features. He could sit like this forever, but there were more important matters to attend to. Quickly he washed off the smell of the arena and dried off. His suit was dirty and torn and covered in blood, but it’s not like they provided fresh laundry for the prisoners on this ship. Going anywhere naked was not an option so he’ll just have to make it work.

     He pulled the body suit on and adjusted until it was comfortable, like a second skin and threw on the over shirt. Thace was waiting patiently for him, reading through something until he looked up to see the Dayan clean and relaxed. He pulled his hair back into its usual tie and latched the white and crimson bands around his arms before he took a seat next to the Galra.

     Thace leaned closer to him and kept his voice barely above a whisper, “I’ve sent for a rescue ship to come here and free the remaining prisoners. They should be here just barely after the middle of the arena’s night cycle. You are the inside personnel they will need. This mission won’t go any differently than the others you’ve done in the past. They come in, get every prisoner to safety on their ship and fly out. Do not let them be detected. Once everyone is safely evacuated, we’ll set off the detonator for this place. Another arena out of commission.”

     Ankary nodded. This wasn’t any different than other rescue missions he’s completed. He moved his hands in specific gestures, something about assurance for his success. Thace shook his head, “You know I don’t speak any form of the Silent Tongue language.” Ankary sighed. That’s right, of course he doesn’t. Why even bother trying to teach it to him? No one knew the Silent Tongue language but him. He could speak over thousands of languages and write in them, but when it came for them to understand him, communication was lost. Simple gestures and facial expressions got him by, but it was so frustrating when no one knew exactly what he was saying. In any case, he nodded his head. He can get this done, no problem.

     There was a polite knock at the door. Ankary jumped up and rushed to grab his restraints. If anyone saw him without them, not only would he get in trouble, but Thace would as well. It was a policy the arena enforced. Any visitation where the prisoner was out of their custom restraints was prohibited. The rule was there to keep guests safe from the prisoners since they were considered weapons that the arena harbored. If anyone saw him like this with a Galra officer, they would be suspicious and the whole mission would be a bust. Thace helped him back into his various locks quickly.

     Ankary scrunched his nose at the muzzle that he held up to his mouth. He hated that thing. The taste of metal did not sit well. “You have to put it on. It’ll raise alarms if you don’t,” Thace urged. Another knock motivated him to do as told. He bore his serpentine fangs and sunk them into the padding. Thace then locked it in place and he gave the order for the new guest to come in.

     The door swished open and a guard walked in, the Galra insignia visible on the breast plate, “Apologies for the interruption, my lord,” it said in a monotone voice, “Arena host, Kaizar, has ordered this prisoner be escorted back to their holding cell for rest.”

     “What happened to my request for him to stay here tonight?” Thace countered, scowling suspiciously at him.

     “The request was denied although Kaizar thought it fair that you got a few minutes as compensation. I am under command to disclose no more.” Ankary scrunched his nose at this. What half-witted excuse is that? Still, it was Kaizar’s arena, he can do whatever he pleases. Judging by Thace’s aura, he wasn’t happy with that answer either.

     “I see.” He eyed the soldier up and down. “Then make sure he is given what he needs in order to stay alive. Emperor Zarkon would not be pleased if he found out that his precious gladiators died because the handlers are too stupid to know how to do their jobs.” The guard simply saluted his superior and pushed Ankary out into the hallway when he refused to move.


	3. Chapter 3

     Ankary stood in another room, still. The guard was lying when he said he was going back to his holding cell. He gave a cold, hard glare at the arena owner, Kaizar. The Galra wasn’t toned like other soldiers. He was a bit more on the heavier side, but strong none the less, covered in the trademark purple fur. The war paint on his face was hard to distinguish against the battle scars that marked all over his body. His yellow eyes emphasized the wicked smirk. There was a glimpse of his fangs when he talked, but they weren’t nearly as long or deadly like the Dayan’s, hence the guard in his jaws.

     The Galra were more feline in characteristics, both in physical and social. Kaizar was no different, being the alpha of his own clan and multiple mates that were loyal to him and each other. Ankary hated the smell of his alphaic pheromones. Way too strong and musky, like when someone over applies cologne.

     “Are you really going to stand there and glare daggers at me or will you join me over here and relax for once?” His voice was deep, like most of the other alphas in the Galra Empire. Ankary remained still. He’d rather chew his own arm off before he’d willingly let this Galra near him. Kaizar sighed before grabbing his tail and pulling him closer to finally sit down in one of the chairs. Ankary’s nose scrunched, but he made no move to try and fight.

     “I enjoyed your performance today. It’s entertaining to watch you fight. Observing the way your opponent works before going for the kill at their weakest point is something I should expect of a Galra soldier. Even seeing the way the handlers have to adapt in order to bring you to heel has become amusing.” Ankary tried his best to snarl at him, scrunching his nose and narrowing his eyes. Without his fangs he couldn’t complete the silent threat, so he made do with what he had.

     “When you were first captured and thrown into my arena, I was skeptical. You certainly didn’t look the type who was going to survive the first round.” That was a long time ago. Ankary could remember when he opened up his contract and read the information about his commission. Kaizar was in charge of the whole arena system. The multiple locations to hold matches were directly coordinated with the Galra prison ships. After he proposed the idea of using the prisoners as entertainment instead of a waste of space, the Emperor gave him all the necessities to open his gladiator matches which then spread throughout the universe. Kaizar was a powerful figure, indeed.

     “You’ve proved me wrong, though. Not only do you know how to keep yourself alive against your opponents, you observe, analyze and turn it against them. You’re a dirty fighter, I like that. A real weapon in my arsenal. It would be foolish of me to pass up an opportunity to offer you something more suitable than a common prisoner.” Ankary narrowed his eyes. Was he trying to make a deal or something? His curiosity perked up, but he refused to lower his guard.

     Kaizar smirked when he saw Ankary’s shoulders lower. “I’ll offer you two choices. One, you can either remain a prisoner here and continue to fight for the glory of the Emperor, or you can join my side and show the Galra army how real fighting is done.” The Dayan cringed and leaned away in disgust. Why would he ever want to give any assistance to the Empire? He shook his head in refusal.

     All he got in return was a knowing laugh. “I figured that would be your first choice, but let me elaborate. If you join me I can give you diplomatic immunity and your range of freedom won’t be confined to prison walls. You will be provided with an actual living space with your own bed, bath and privacy. You will be given a higher rank above the average soldier so you won’t have to kneel to them anymore. I might even throw in a personal ship at your disposal. No more fighting for your life, treated with minimal medical care, or showering with the other prisoners and falling asleep in a comfortable bed. What say you?”

     If it weren’t for the guard around his fangs he would sink them into the Galra’s purple fur and tear his throat out. It would be nice to actually have some luxury and freedom, but he would rather die than join Kaizar’s team. This stupid war has brought in many prisoners from captured planets and star systems when the Galra Empire took over, more innocent than guilty. There’s no way he could just let that go. It wasn’t right. He gave his hardest glare and shook his head again.

     Kaizar lifted a brow, “No? Pity. You would excel greatly in the forces of the Empire.” He got up from his seat, making Ankary’s guard spike higher. He went over to the door and touched the pad next to it. Typing something into the coding, Kaizar finalized whatever he was telling the ship computer. A few moments later and the door opened with a quiet whoosh. Two handlers entered, wearing sterile gloves and what looked like medical masks.

     Ankary shot to his feet, but the restraints prevented him from fighting them off when one of them grabbed him. He struggled and hissed as much as possible, a fruitless effort to resist. The one holding him down had a tight grip while the other approached him and stuck a needle into him. The clear fluid inside it was injected into his bloodstream. A fiery anger flared inside him.

     When they finished he was let go and instantly wished he wasn’t. Already spent on keeping himself alive in the fights, whatever small ounce of energy he had left drained from him. He fell to the floor, laying limp. Kaizar almost laughed at how useless he looked. Mentally Ankary threw daggers at him. The handlers stood silently to the side, awaiting orders. “Don’t worry, it won’t last forever,” he reassured. “This is just an experiment. I want to see how far I can push you without killing you. What does it take to break your spirits, I wonder? Consider it…motivation.”

     The Galra looked over to the handlers and said something Ankary was too mentally tired to interpret in his head. He could feel the effects of whatever drug this was settling in. Suddenly feeling just how burnt out his muscles were. They nodded and forced Ankary up on his feet. Kaizar gave him one last look. “I would love to stay here, but I have to attend my duties at another arena, and you have a few more matches tomorrow. I want a report on how well you handle them.”

     Ankary was so exhausted. How was he going to fight tomorrow with such a sore body? Kaizar left the room and the handlers had to help Ankary back to his cell. He ached all over and his soul felt so cold and small. He barely noticed the restraints anymore. It didn’t take long for his whole body to go numb and the pull of sleep was so inviting. Whether he actually fell asleep or passed out was unsure. All he knew was the darkness that followed within a matter of moments.


	4. Chapter 4

     Shiro was distant the entire time the team was talking to Thace. He was too busy with his own thoughts to even pay attention to what anyone was saying. When he saw Ankary Blackwell on that screen, all he could think about were the memories stored in his head. Ankary was part of the reason why he survived being a gladiator in the arena, teaching him basic defense and attack for alien races. Learning how to hack into pick locks and understand some Galra technology. He even taught him how to get around the ship unnoticed by walking lightly and the timing of patrols. Now he at least knows that he was alive after being dragged away suddenly for Haggar’s experimentations.

     Keith came over to him and bumped his shoulder, “Hey, you alright?”

     Shiro shook his head and looked over at his fellow teammate, “Yeah, just a little frazzled is all.”

     “If you don’t want to go in there you don’t have to. The others and I can handle a simple rescue mission on our own. We’ll completely understand if you want to stay here and help us operate from afar.” Keith knitted his brow together. Everyone knew damn well about Shiro’s time in the arena, the horrors he saw, doing whatever it took for survival. Keith knew him better than anyone. Whatever problem Shiro was having with his PTSD, he could go to Keith. The red paladin’s concern was genuine.

     Shiro shook his head and glanced forward at the other team members speaking with Thace. “No, I have to go. I have to get those people out of there. It’s my duty. I have to get Ankary to safety, I owe him at least that much.” Determination settled into his expression. He was a paladin of Voltron and he sure as hell was not going to back down from this. Keith put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and walked back to the group. Shiro followed him and he tuned into the conversation.

     “Does everyone understand the plan?” Thace asked, looking around to the group.

     “Get in, meet your contact, load the prisoners to the escape pods, get out and blow this puppy up,” Lance’s summary was short and sweet, but he liked to emphasize it by dramatically moving his hands into a visual accompaniment. “Once this is done there will be plenty of cute aliens who need a tender, sensitive guy with a shoulder to cry on.”

     “Lance will you take this seriously?” Keith chided. “These prisoners have gone through who knows what kind of torture and you’re really going to use it as an excuse to pick up a date? How conceited are you?”

     “Hey, I know this is serious. I didn’t say anything about picking up a date, did I?” The blue paladin argued.

     “Guys, no more fighting. Right now we need to focus on the mission. Thace, where do we need to go to?” Shiro’s leader voice always managed to get everyone’s attention.

     Thace pulled up a small computer chip of some sort and handed it over to Pidge, the computer expert. “This is a schema of the ship’s interior. You’ll need it to find the holding cells and the escape pods. My contact will be waiting for you at the docking port so they can guide you through. It’s a labyrinth in there so they will help with navigation. It’s similar to the one Ulaz rescued Shiro from, but the layout is different. If you leave now you’ll be able to make it there in the middle of the ship’s night cycle when everyone is asleep and patrols are few. Be quick. After everyone is gone, I’ll detonate a bomb I placed and the ship will be no more than debris. Is everyone clear of it?”

     The group all gave their affirmations, Shiro included. Pidge took the chip over to the ship’s computer and inserted it into the database. A 3-dimensional version of the ship came up and the areas Thace mentioned were highlighted. There were moving figures roaming the halls as well, indicating the guards on their patrol routes. Princess Allura looked at the rest of the team, a confident smile on her face. She looked to Shiro for any further guidance. The black paladin addressed them, “Alright everyone, here’s the assignments. Pidge will remain here to help navigate alongside Thace while Coran and Allura take care of the prisoners after they arrive in their escape pods. Lance, Hunk, Keith and I will be there to help them to their pods. Let’s go.”

     After he finished, everyone was off to suit up and get to their lions. Pidge was busy tapping on her laptop trying to get feed of any security cameras or systems. Allura headed out to the docking bay to prepare for the escape pods while Coran went over to the med bay and warm up the healing pods. Shiro took one last glance out of the window to the menacing ship that served as the arena. How many innocent lives have died there? He pushed the thought away before his got too negative and ran to his lion.

     Black greeted him with a warm feeling in his mind and opened its mouth to let him in. Shiro smiled, “Hey, Black. Let’s go save the day again.” He took his rightful place in the pilot seat and together he and the other paladins launched out of the Castle of Lions.

 

* * *

 

     Ankary woke up back in his cell. There was a dull pain in his head and a prominent one throughout his body, the worst at the moment being his legs. Slowly he sat up and winced as the soreness in his muscles protested against it. He noticed that he no longer had his restraints on him. He managed to lift his tail, thankful for the feeling restored to it. His shoulders hurt from being forced behind him and there were marks on his arms where they were bound. He also moved his jaw back and forth since it was free from that muzzle. Even his horns were uncased. His handlers figured there was no point in keeping them on when he was locked and alone in his cell. What he still had was the guard around his tail blade. Guess they can’t trust him even in his cell alone without it. In all honesty, they really couldn’t.

     He pressed a hand to his abdomen and felt the heaviness inside him. How was he supposed to fight in this condition? He stood up from the slab that was supposed to pass as a bed. He noticed that his suit was different. This one was clean and there were no tears or stains or even the smell of his last one. Guess they would do him a ‘favor’ and give him a clean suit before sending him to his death.

     Ankary looked over to the door of his cell. There was a thin window that stretched across the wall length door so he could faintly see out into the hallway. Staring at the cell across the way, he focused his keen eye sight on the pad right there. The time was late, about midnight in Galra time. Ankary stared at it for a moment. What was important about the time?

     Oh Daea.

     He had to get out so he could meet the rescue team. Urgently he pressed against the door to the side where it met the wall. Baring his fangs, he nicked the tip of one his ring finger. The crimson blood started to bead from the bite. He carefully pressed it against the metal of the door and drew a small circle with an ancient looking symbol in the middle. It wasn’t very big, but it didn’t have to be for this purpose. When he finished he stepped back and watched at the symbol pulsed with energy and the metal corroded away.

     Ankary kicked the now weakened lock and the security system holding him captive released. The large door flashed open with a silent hiss. He forced himself to stand up and drudge out into the hall. Glancing from one side to the other, no patrols were heard or seen. He could feel his head and face become feverish as his body demanded rest, but there was no time for that. He had to get up to the loading dock. Cautiously he stepped out of the cell and ran down the corridor until it split in the pathways. The guard on his tail made an uncomfortable dead weight, making him exert more energy just to keep it from scraping the floor. The juncture just on the base of his tail felt like it was on fire from the effort to hold it up. Hopefully this will be over soon.

     The sound of footsteps echoed down the halls in different directions. Ankary pressed himself up against the wall between the ribbings where a dark purplish light illuminated the eerie coldness. He tapped his finger against the wall and counted in his head. On the 20 or so count the footsteps turned and proceeded down another hallway. He tapped 3 more times before making a dash around the corner. Right as he slid into another hiding spot, he counted again. His claws clicked ever so lightly on the metal of the wall he hid behind. More footsteps could be heard in the distance and he patiently waited. Again when they disappeared he ran out from his hiding place to the next.

     His movements were so light, it didn’t even sound like he put any weight on his strides. One of the perks for having a small, agile body meant that he was also very light weight, making stealth easy for him. Again and again he darted from one spot to the other, counting out the seconds between them. Just as he predicted, a few patrols walked right past him, but didn’t see him in the shadows. The purple lighting and the cold hard material that most Galra ships were made from gave a dark gloom to the atmosphere. When the arena was in the middle of a night cycle, the echoes of the few patrols made the place seem empty and haunted. Kenopsia stands out more when the guards aren’t even Galra, they are droids.

     Still Ankary pushed forward, leaning in the deepest of shadows. He almost faltered on his running when his legs cried for relief. How much he wanted to stop running and just go back to sleep. His survival instinct was the only thing driving him at this point. He ignored the unrest in his stomach, the unsteady rapid pace of his heart in his chest and the weakness he felt in the rest of his body. He pushed on, nearly stumbled into another secret crevice of the ship and stopped. The sweat on his body stuck to the inside of the suit.

     A jarring pain cramped in his abdomen, spreading to his back and up his spine. He winced and doubled over himself. His breathing turned to heavy pants as it surged through him. When it faded into a tolerable discomfort, he pressed his hand against the sore spot. His stomach was contracting. His body trying to reject the intrusive drug. Just thinking about the unwelcome feeling made him want to just tear it thing out. Another shock of pain made him crumple to the floor and he hissed through clenched teeth. He lost track of where he was and how far away the next patrol was. How long would it be until they discovered him? Fighting his way out wouldn’t be possible in a situation like this.

     The Dayan was about to force himself up when he heard a distant crash, followed by the sounds of guns firing as voices engaging in combat. The sound of an alarm went off; alerting the whole ship that something was wrong. His vision started to blur and his heart sank to his stomach. What were they going to do to him once the handlers or the guards or whoever found him near the docking port by the escape pods?

     His consciousness started to waver when a figure appeared in front of him. He didn’t see the face, and he was too exhausted to really understand the aura he sensed, but a strange calmness washed over him. He could only make out faint tones of black and white with blue highlights and the vague feeling of being picked up. The last he saw before he completely blacked out were numerous escape pods launching out of the ship that housed the arena and the sight of an explosive fire that consumed the prison that he was kept in.


	5. Chapter 5

     Shiro and Coran stood in the med bay after Thace returned to his commander’s ship to avoid suspicion and Princess Allura worm holed out of the explosion. All the other prisoners had left with Blade of Marmora escorts back to their homes. The last prisoner that remained in a healing pod was Ankary, which Shiro guarded, watching, waiting. Coran was keeping track of Ankary’s monitoring in the healing pod. Having him there brought some sort of comfort to Shiro. “How much longer, Coran?”

     Coran pulled out his timer, “Just a few more ticks and the healing pod cycle will be complete.”

     Shiro remained silent. He watched as the Dayan stayed still, not opening his eyes or moving a muscle. No indication that he was thinking or dreaming anything at all. _Typical,_ Shiro thought. _Even in your sleep you refuse to let anyone try to pick your brain._ The tick counter was slow; Shiro stood impatiently, waiting. The final count took what seemed like an eternity.

     Finally the healing pod’s cycle finished and it hissed, letting out compressed air in a cold mist as the door swished open. Shiro was the first to react, holding out his arms to catch the Dayan. Ankary fell forward into the catch, opening his eyes slowly. His first instinctual reaction was to twist free of whoever was holding him. He managed to escape and whirled around to land in a defensive stance and hiss. He probably thought he was still in captivity Shiro guessed. Ankary felt a sudden wave of dizziness and he lost his balance, stumbling to the floor. Again Shiro was there to catch him and lift him to his feet, “Whoa, easy. It’s okay, you’re safe, now.”

     Ankary gave him a quizzical look. “It’s me, Shiro. Remember?” Shiro…Shiro…Shiro? Ankary’s expression went through a rainbow of emotions, shock, disbelief, confusion, etc. That was when realization dawned on him. Sweet Spara! Shiro! He was alive! The black paladin pulled him into a tight embrace and the Dayan froze. He settled on patting his back, but when Shiro didn’t pull away, he struggled against him, irritated. “I’m not letting go until you give me a proper hug.” Ankary then sighed and wrapped his arms around him tightly. When Shiro finally withdrew, Ankary got a real look at him.

     His aura was so full of light, and happy feelings, no copy can ever impersonate an aura. This was the real Shiro. Only…he looked different than he remembered. To start with he was more built, more muscle than last time. He looked healthier, not starving and much less sleep deprived even if it was still present. He looked different without the prisoner uniform; this simple black one suited him much better. The white tuft of hair was new too, how did he get that?

     The most prominent change was the metal arm attached to his right bicep. Ankary’s heart sunk with sadness. He took it in his clawed hands and inspected it. There was no joke. This was a fake arm, a cybernetic replica. He looked over the details and traced them with his fingertips. It was Galran in technology. A dark energy buzzed through the thing, corrupted in its original purpose. This wasn’t just an arm, it was a weapon, one that the Galra gave him. Ankary looked back up to see the scar across the bridge of his nose. He narrowed his eyes at it, making Shiro tense. This wasn’t a battle wound. It was too clean, too symmetrical, too precise and too shallow. Any deeper and he would have lost his eye. No, this he definitely did not get from a fight. It looked like the mark of a branded slave. Oh Daea, what have they done to him?

     His thoughts were coming back now. The prisoners. Thace. Where were they? Daea! What about his mission? The Dayan again attempted to make his way out of the med bay and get back to his mission, but he was stumbling again by the dizzy feeling. Shiro pulled him back, this time holding him with a firm grasp to not only keep him upright, but to stay put, “Hey, slow down. You just got out of a healing pod. Give it a few minutes before you try to storm off without an explanation.” Ankary scrunched his nose. Shiro was right, of course. He was pretty disoriented for the time being.

     On the bright side he felt so much better than his previous condition. His muscles were no longer sore, his legs didn’t feel like they were going to cave from exhaustion, any nausea had vanished and he could feel circulation throughout his body again. Unconsciously he pressed a hand over his stomach. The sharp cramping was gone. Ankary felt a shiver run up his spine at the still potent memory. That disgusting Galra injecting whatever kind of drug inside him made his heart burn with rage. It was gone now, but Ankary was far from letting this go. No, he was going to rip his soul apart. What happened to the Galra ship he was on? The prisoners? Thace?

     “I can see you’re still confused,” Shiro got his attention. “Before anything else, I’ll tell you that the mission was a success. We got all of the prisoners out and returned to their homes. After we got out, Thace blew the gladiator arena up, destroying it. You’re safe now, everyone is.” Yeah, it was a quick snippet of an explanation, but it did the trick. Ankary processed all of it and he finally settled down. If anything he could trust Shiro’s word.

     Coran then came over to inspect him with some sort of eye piece, glancing at him up and down, “No signs of internal injuries. The healing pod must have done a thorough sweep or there were none to begin with.” Ankary raised a brow at him, but he didn’t stop him from his health inspection. His aura was also friendly, not malicious like the auras he’s sensed for the past…who knows how long in that arena. When he finished, the alien returned his doctor equipment and held out his hand, “Pleasure to meet you. My name is Coran, I’m the mechanic of this vessel.” Ankary didn’t shake his hand. Instead he opted to a curt bow of the head in greeting.

     “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the others. They want to meet you.” Shiro led the way out of the med bay and into the hall. Ankary silently followed with Coran in tow. This ship was much more welcoming in its architecture. It was open and everything had a bluish tint to it. The lights were brighter and there were no more sharp edges like how the Galra liked their designs. This one had more curves and a gentle flow from room to room. He felt more relaxed here. They circled a corner and proceeded down another hall until they all arrived at the bridge.

     The atrium was large with a high ceiling and a broad, circular shape to the floor. Along what must be the front of the ship was a panoramic window that stretched the expanse of the rounded wall, revealing everything in space to the naked eye. Towards the back of the room was an inset in the floor, consisting of comfortable pillows and a bench that circled around the interior like a small visiting or resting area. What looked like a dashboard lined the walls under the giant window, all different kinds of buttons, levers, screens, and keyboards resting or glowing slightly. Five chairs sat at their respective stations with a podium looking thing in the center of the room, probably the pilot seat.

     There were also four other people in the room. At the sound of entry, they all looked up from what they were doing to stare at Ankary. He didn’t feel self-conscious or anything, but he was a bit unsettled thinking that whoever these guys were knew him and were anticipating to meet him. A tall, beautiful woman with dark skin and long flowing light colored hair smiled, two triangular marks under her eyes glowing. From what Ankary could guess she was the same species as Coran. She stepped down from the pilot podium and came over to greet them. “Glad to see you could finally join us,” her voice was smooth and soft. “I am Princess Allura of Altea. Welcome to the Castle of Lions, home of Voltron. The door is always open to allies of the paladins.”

     Upon hearing the title of this alien, Ankary respectfully knelt down in a more formal bow. When he stood back up he waved his hands in fluid motions for his own introduction. He was hoping for some sort of understanding, but as per usual, only met with a blank stare. “I apologize,” Allura admitted, “I’m afraid I do not understand you.” Ankary sighed, resting his hands on his hips. Of course not. No one in this universe would ever know the Silent Tongue. Why does he even bother trying?

     “Oh, I guess I’ll have to do the talking,” Shiro stepped up. “This is Ankary Blackwell, Ally to the Blade of Marmora and also the one who pretty much saved my life in the arena. Ankary can’t speak so Sign Language is how he communicates. Although, I think it goes by something else.”

     “Ah, you mean the Silent Tongue,” Coran piped up. “Yes, I recognize this language. Unfortunately I don’t know it, but I’ve seen it used before. It’s an excellent language for those who do not have the means to verbally communicate, even amongst their own species, or if hearing apparatuses are not something one is born with.” Ankary nodded. At least knowing about the language was better than nothing.

     His attention was turned when his hand was taken by another with a kiss gently pressed to it. Looking over he noticed a guy with semi-dark skin and short brown hair giving him a flirtatious eye, “Hey, the name’s Lance. Wanna go for a ride, sometime? I can show you all the stars even if none of them would be half as beautiful as you.” Ankary narrowed his eyes and pulled away. Getting hit on was not something he really appreciated. Getting mistaken for the wrong identity happened more often than he liked to admit. Many even continued to pursue him even after he corrected them and proved not interested.

     “Don’t mind Lance, he’ll flirt with anything that moves,” a more robust guy said. His aura was warm, Ankary sensed. It felt approachable. “I’m Hunk, by the way.” Ankary bowed his greeting to him. From across the room he noticed another member pretty much by himself, leaning against the wall, observing. His lighter skin and dark hair was similar to Ankary’s, but the Dayan’s skin was much lighter and hair was much darker. His aura was more brooding. He didn’t say anything and didn’t approach him. He kept a poker face.

     Lance looked over at him and muttered under this breath, “Leave it to Keith to be as antisocial as possible.” Keith, hm.

     Tinkering could be heard behind him. He turned around to see a smaller human messing with the guard around his tail blade. Oh, that’s right. He completely forgot about that. “I’m pretty sure I can hack into the system and access the code to unlock this thing. It should only take a few vargas.” Ankary shook his head. He had a faster way of handling this. Carefully, he withdrew his whip of a tail away from her reach and stepped further into the room. When he got enough space he suddenly lashed his tail around him and forcefully smashed the guard into the floor. The loud crash made everyone jump, accompanied by the shock of seeing such hard material shatter into pieces by the powerful blow.

     The remaining pieces of the guards scattered on the floor, bits of electric streams shot through broken wires before short circuiting and burning out. When the human who was tinkering with the device looked up, he saw the shock in her face. A strange feeling of familiarity hit him in the chest. He’s seen that face before, and that aura. Where? “Ankary, do you remember Matt?” Matt! Yes, of course! The other prisoner who came with Shiro. He nodded in affirmation. “This is his sister, Pidge.” Oh, well that explains it. This was not Matt, but family with a similar aura. She perked up.

     Her eyes were wide with hope, “Wait, you knew Matt? Did you ever see him? Where did they take him? Do you know? Was he with—.”

     “Pidge,” Shiro interrupted. “Slow down. There’s plenty of time for questions. Right now we need to let him rest. Allura is there a spare room or anywhere he can stay for the night?”

     “Of course, we have plenty of rooms available,” She responded. “Coran will you please show our guest so he may rest up?”

     “Yes, Princess. Right away.” Ankary got one last glance at everyone and a lingering look from Shiro before following the Altean to his temporary quarters. Deep crimson eyes saw a reassurance that he remembered so well from the first time they met in the arena. Just how much sleep he got in the last few hours was unsure, but a warm bed sounded really nice right about now.


	6. Chapter 6

     There’s sound outside of his cell door. Two guards barking orders, followed by a hiss and few thumps. Shiro sits alone in the darkness, only dim lights from the ceiling giving any source of illumination. The voices get closer until they are just outside. “Why can’t we just throw him in solitary confinement?” One guard asks. Shiro didn’t have an extensive knowledge on the Galra language, but he was getting better the more he overheard them speak and put bits and pieces together into a coherent thought. Thank goodness no one ever talked about complex ideas here; otherwise he would really be lost.

     “Because all of them are full of other prisoners who can’t learn to share and every other cell is full. He killed his last 3 roommates and Kaizar is not happy. The best one to room him with is the Champion. He won’t allow himself to get killed if his reputation has anything to say about it,” The other guard sounded female in voice. It was deeper than any other female he’s heard, but the smooth flow betrayed gender. He heard something click in the mechanics of the wall, a security system probably being unlocked.

     The door to his cell whisked open and just as predicted, two guards and a prisoner were silhouetted against the bright purple light of the hallway. “Good news, Champion,” The female mocked. “You have a new playmate. Treat him nicely or you might not live to see your next fight.” They both chuckled and the prisoner thrashed in their grip. Arms bound behind his back, the prisoner couldn’t really get a grip on them. “Maybe if you’re lucky he’ll actually tolerate you and leave you alone.” What? Whatever, Shiro was too tired to understand it. He’ll make sense of the words later. The prisoner was thrown in and stumbled to the floor, landing with a thump. “Ankary Blackwell, you are hereby detained to cell A-43L until further notice. Try not to kill your cellmate this time.”

     Ankary shot to his feet and charged at them, hissing viciously. The door slammed shut and he crashed right into it with full force just before he could reach them. Snarling, he pulled back and lunged into the metal again, but nothing was going to give way. Angrily he kicked the door when he heard the guards laugh again and walk away. Shiro saw him lean against the wall and slide down until he was in a sitting position. When Shiro’s eyes adjusted to the darkness again, he saw the actual form of his new cellmate, the horns, a powerful looking tail, a small body that showed through the skin tight prisoner uniform.

     Shiro forced himself to get up and cautiously get closer to him. Ankary flinched and reacted by lifting up his deadly looking tail with scales that shamed any kind of protective armor into a barrier around himself. He bore his long serpentine fangs in warning. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to get you out of those locks on your arms,” Shiro held up his hands in surrender to prove his innocence. There must have been some way he presented himself since Ankary lowered his tail and relaxed.

     He got to his feet and turned around for access to the locks. The Champion inspected them and gently twisted the padding. Thank goodness this place had simple locks he could pick instead of some complicated thing with a hand print or a retina scan or whatever. It took some effort and a broken piece of wire, but he got the lock to release and the simple contraption fell to the floor. Ankary relaxed his shoulders and twisted them, encouraging sensation to return.

     Ankary slumped down on the slab that was supposed to be a bed and ran his fingers through his hair. They sat in silence for a few minutes. In the holding cells was the only time prisoners were not allowed to fight. If they were going to fight, it would be for an audience. The last cellmate Shiro had was Matt and Sam Holt, before they got dragged off to who knows where. Just to keep him from going insane, or possibly because of it, he tried to make something social with the other prisoners. “I’m Shiro.”

     The Dayan faced him at the introduction. He said nothing and didn’t take Shiro’s hand when offered. He bowed slightly instead. “Ankary is your name then?” He was granted a nod. “Not much of a talker, huh?” The Dayan shook his head. He gestured to his throat by tapping his fingertips against it. As a demonstration, he mouthed some sort of sentence, but no sound came out. Then it dawned on him. “Oh, can’t talk. I see.” More silence. Okay, communication challenge, at least he knows English. Speaking to prisoners with a different language is hard, but he eventually finds some way to communicate, this one should be no different.

     “So you killed your last cellmates,” Shiro stated. Ankary raised a brow at him. He probably wasn’t expecting small talk to be part of his gladiator/prisoner career. Guarded, he nods. “Why?” Why? How was that supposed to get an answer? Try something more specific, ‘yes’ and ‘no’ questions, multiple choice, whatever was easy. “Did they attack you? Or were they just an annoyance?” He hoped it wasn’t the second one. If Ankary finds him annoying, he’ll definitely be dead before long. Ankary held up two fingers and pointed to the first. “They attacked you.” Another nod.

     Shiro looked over his form. He didn’t see any visible injuries. There were no scratches or tears in his body suit, no blood or bruises. “You don’t seem to have any wounds anywhere.” Ankary narrowed his eyes at him. He then scoffed and made himself as comfortable as possible on the slab for a bed. He turns his back to Shiro and curls his tail around himself. Whatever part of that sentence put him off Shiro didn’t know. He then decided that sleep was probably the best thing right now. Even if it meant they both had to get up tomorrow and fight, it’s better to fight with more sleep than less. Shiro did the same as him and found some way to lie down and let the cold darkness consume him.

 

* * *

 

     Shiro watched from his spot with the other prisoners who were waiting to meet their fates stepped out into the arena. When it was Ankary’s turn, he was offered an array of weapons to choose from for this fight. The most reliable looking weapon out of the choices looked like a sturdy axe of some sort, or a scythe. Ankary’s small build did not look to permit any heavy lifting so something that did not take too much effort would be a good choice. What Shiro expected was for him to choose a weapon. What he didn’t expect that his weapon of choice was not a presented option. He just simply walked away from the rack of them, standing in the middle of the arena. What was he doing?

     The audience roared with applause when he took his spot at one end of the sand filled arena. Only a few tall pillars of rocks for the landscape. On the other side of the arena entered his opponent. A massive looking beast that could count as humanoid, barely. There were six limbs in total, four arms and two legs. They were dressed in the shredded remains of what used to be a prisoner uniform. Various scars could be seen on the…scaly? skin. They wielded a large club in their hands, truly brutish. This opponent was at least 6 times bigger than the small Dayan. It let out a loud roar that topped the sound of the cheering audience. Ankary dropped into a defensive stance and waited. The sound of an alarm went off, indicating the start of the match. The Dayan didn’t move.

     He waited until the beast came charging at him. They lifted their club up high and swung a powerful blow at him. Just before it was about to make contact, Ankary dodged and darted out of the way with a speed impossibly fast. If anyone blinked they missed the movement. Ankary circled around to the back and hissed. His opponent sluggishly turned around to chase him. Ankary held up his tail in defense. There is no way he could fight this guy with brute strength. Shiro watched as he dodged again. Blow after blow, he darted around the arena, taking a few seconds to pause and really look at him.

     Calculating eyes took down mental notes and measurements, forces and speeds. Shiro knew that gaze. That was an observation gaze. Ankary was watching, analyzing, searching for critical points before he couldn’t anymore and dodged again, repeating it over and over. It was amazing how fast he moved. His lean body was built for speed, but this speed? How do you train to get that fast? When Ankary stopped again, he was in front of the bars where Shiro and some of the other prisoners were kept, allowed to watch. Ankary dropped into his defensive stance again and waited.

     The beast roared as he made another attempt to land a hit, Ankary didn’t move this time. He waited ever so patiently. The massive alien was nearing rapidly, throwing all of its energy into the attack. Still Ankary waited. Closer and closer the thing got, almost giving Shiro a heart attack. He would not like watching this thing come after him in a fight. He got an anxious feeling watching his cellmate do nothing. It was so aggravating. Why won’t he do anything?

     After what felt like an eternity, Ankary jumped into action. He got on all fours like a cheetah and scaled a nearby pillar. Once he reached the top he twisted his body to change momentum and hissed as he launched into the air. The alien was going too fast to stop himself before he could get out of the way or smack him with his weapon. In slow motion Shiro watched as the Dayan readied his claws and whipped his tail out in front of him, blade aiming at the opponent. They collided and Ankary latched onto the larger beast with his claws. He lashed his tail around him and with just the right amount of force, speared the blade through the neck, the tip poking out the other side.

     The beast toppled over, taking Ankary with it and a green hued liquid that was the alien’s blood gushed out. It spurted onto the sand and Ankary’s clothes, face and his tail. A silence fell over the audience in complete shock, before erupting into victorious roars. He yanked his tail out, causing more blood to spill onto the ground. A sickening crack of bone and cartilage could be heard by the movement. A fire burned with rage in the Dayan’s eyes as he whipped to glare at the arena owner, watching from his respective seat. Aggressively he thrust his fist up at the owner with his middle finger out. Shiro temporarily forgot his state of horror to find the gesture quite hilarious. Guess there are some signs that are universal no matter where you are.


	7. Chapter 7

     As suspected, Ankary was bombarded with questions and inquiries from the paladins the following day. Shiro insisted on giving him some space, which they did reluctantly. That was when the castle was receiving a transmission from Kolivan. Everyone turned their attention to the screen when Coran went to answer it. Kolivan appeared on the screen, his mask off. “Kolivan,” Allura addressed. Ankary felt her aura change, something more on edge, tense. Did she not trust the Blade of Marmora? Curious.

     “Princess, Thace has notified me that your mission was successful. Would Ankary happen to be with you?” She stepped aside as said Dayan entered the picture. He gave a basic salute to him in greeting. “Ankary, it’s good to see you safe,” His expression didn’t change, but there was some relief in his voice. “We would like you to return to the Head Quarters and prepare for your next assignment.”

     “Excuse me,” another voice on Kolivan’s side interrupted off screen. It sounded firm and female in tone. “He doesn’t take orders from you. He takes them from me.” The camera flipped over to show who was speaking. A woman stood there with her arms folded across her chest and a hard expression on her face. She was a similar race as Ankary was, but there were still differences. The same protective black scales that covered Ankary’s tail was present on her as well, only it was her entire body, tail included. Her spade was about the same size as Ankary’s, if a little smaller, and was shaped like an arrow. The length was shorter too, equivalent to her height by the looks of it.

     Two cream colored ram horns dominated the top part of her head, curling behind pointed ears and circled her jawline. She had the same serpentine fangs and tongue when she spoke to reveal them. Her eyes were also a wash of color, the iciest crystals that even the Bolmara could never hold a candle to. She tapped her claws against her bare arms, a dark green swatch of cloth covered her chest and the tight green Capri spandex pants gave a nice compliment to her hourglass shape. Ankary flinched when he saw that it was his superior, with her shockingly blue stare. “Agent Blackwell,” she addressed in that same authoritative voice, “report.”

     Ankary then gave a real salute to her, like a real soldier should. As instructed he relayed the information to her via Silent Tongue. His pacing between moving gestures, handshapes, positions and so on were much faster than anyone else had ever seen him use. The whole ship was silent as he told her the barebones of his mission, but he left out specific parts on purpose. No one had to know what other horrors happened in there and he knew it would trigger her if he ever mentioned it. When he finished her expression went unreadable. “I see,” was what she said after a few moments. “Well then, I’ll be sure to update your training sessions. I won’t have my elite agent be subdued by primal methods. It seems we’ll need to work on your endurance as well. You almost cost this mission with your exhaustion.”

     The young Dayan lowered his head and signed a ‘yes ma’am’ to her. “However,” she continued, making him look back up at her, “you did very well by the sounds of it. This was much better than your last execution. Well done, Agent Blackwell.” She gave him a sort of smirk, revealing a small portion of her pride. Ankary knew she could keep her thoughts guarded from everyone and everything; it was something he picked up from her. She was proud of him, even if she didn’t show it extensively. “As Kolivan mentioned before, you need to rest and prepare for your next mission in another arena. We still have a list of them to get through.”

     “Sorry to interrupt,” Shiro interjected, stepping up next to Ankary, “But we could use a little explanation here, Miss…?” He trailed off, a silent question hanging at the end for her to fill in the blank. She turned her attention to the black paladin and her tail swished with amusement.

     “Mistress Amelia. I must say I did not expect the famous Takashi Shirogane to become the black paladin of Voltron, nor any human for that matter.” Ankary felt a sudden sense of surprise radiate from him. His best guess was that it was due to the use of his full name. He never told anyone his full name, not even to Ankary. “Voltron has been in hiding for millennia. Even back then the lions never took one glance at Earth for pilots. The last paladins sure made my job a lot easier by keeping watch over this universe while I took care of the others. It’s a relief to see the band back together.”

     “How do you know my name? I’ve never told anyone my full name. I just went by Champion to the universe.” That last part was true. No one ever bothered to learn his real name, even when he told them.

     “I know many things, Shirogane. More than you can imagine. That’s beside the point. You want an explanation; I’ll give it to you.” She waited until she was sure that everyone on that ship had her full attention. “As I said, I am Mistress Amelia, Warden to the Prison, the highest security system throughout the multiverse. It is my duty to arrest and maintain anyone or anything that breaks the laws of the universe they reside in. Since I have a branch extending to many universes, you can guess that I have to keep track of every law of those universes and who breaks them. That’s the simplest answer I can give.

     “As I’m sure you know, the Galra Empire has control over much of this universe. They hold tournaments for gladiators in their arenas as a sport. That’s fine, but the problem is that they use prisoners instead of willing participants. This has led to the slaughter of millions of innocent souls and their vessels, or bodies in other words. By doing so violates this universe’s law. It also poses a challenge to my Prison’s system of looking after the well-being of my wards. I will not stand for this mockery. Prison is meant for the guilty and prisoners shall be treated as fairly as the crimes they commit, according the Law of the Universe, not sent to fight for the entertainment of others. My elite agent Ankary here is contracted to go undercover as a prisoner to the arenas, finding their weak points and “decommission” them, saving as many prisoners as possible.”

     Ankary looked around to see any reactions. The group’s auras didn’t change but he did see focus on their faces. They listened until she spoke, her words slipping smoothly through the air. “Thank you for looking after him. I’ll make sure you are rewarded for your efforts.” She turned her head to look directly at Ankary, “I want you back here so we can work on your training and you can get some proper rest. Your next arena will require it.”

“Would it be too much to propose that he stay with us for a while?” Princess Allura offered. The other paladins and the young Dayan turned to her, confused. “I’m sure the paladins could use some fresh skills to train with and it is our duty to protect the innocent. Assisting your efforts to destroy the arenas would weaken Zarkon’s forces, bringing us closer to defeating him.”

     “Hm,” Amelia considered, “Interesting proposal, your highness. What say you, Kolivan?” The Galra, nearly twice as big as her, came into the frame.

     “I don’t see why not. The more our allies work together, the stronger we are. You have the executive decision, of course,” was his answer.

     “Ankary?” She lifted a brow at him. The Dayan glanced over his shoulder to see the other paladins liking the idea and there was a definite rise in Shiro’s aura next to him. As much as it would be nice to stay and catch up, he preferred to work alone. Not only would it protect them, but also prevent any obstacles getting in the way of his work. He can’t focus on the well-being of a team and his contracts at the same time. In his signing, he expressed this to his mother.

     She showed no signs of a reaction to him, except for her words. “I know you would prefer to work alone, but being on a team might do you some good. Since you would have botched your last mission without their help, I’m assigning you to stay with them and let them help you with your next mission. Who knows, they actually might prove to be more helpful to you than by yourself.” She pretty much spat that last comment with a sarcastic, exasperated tone; like this wasn’t the first time he was told that making friends or working with a team would be better than taking all of the weight on his own shoulders.

     However, Shiro seemed happy with the opportunity and Ankary would be lying if he said he didn’t want to spend more time with him as well. “I’ll send you an outline of what needs to get done before and during your next mission. Report back to me when you’ve completed it or if you need any further assistance. Don’t forget to get a diagnostic scan on your bands before you open them. There’s always a possibility that the Galra have tinkered with your equipment while you were held captive in any of the past arenas.” Ankary saluted her and she did the same back to him. “Good luck, Agent Blackwell.” The call ended and the screen when black. Ankary faced his new temporary team behind him. This was going to be a long mission.


	8. Chapter 8

     He wasn’t expecting to be the new tenant to the Castle of Lions, even if temporarily. The guest room provided was pretty basic in that it looked more like a college dorm. Two beds, two closets, a bathroom, etc. When he hopped into the shower he was alone and it was quiet for once. He could take his sweet time in here, which he needed. Stripping down and stepping into the hot water, it showered all of the dirt and grime off his body, mixing with the water and running down the drain. It felt so good on his skin.

     Ankary took the opportunity to do a full self-examination. The healing pod did the trick for his head ache, cuts, bruises and a few sore muscles, but he just needed to be sure. It was a bit strange that his body recovered so well from serious injuries despite how delicate it can be. No matter how hard he was hit or how deep his cuts were, they healed to perfection. His quick healing was from his father’s side, he was told. There was a clear benefit to having mixed blood.

     Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He was fine by all physical standards. He stepped out of the shower and dried himself off, running a brush through his long, black hair. While he was cleaning the others said they would look for a change of clothes for him. He shook his head and did his best to convey that he actually liked the body suit. Yeah it was kinda revealing to his anatomy, but it was flexible. He could move however he wanted and it was the perfect fit. The fabric was breathable too. Whatever it was made of was pretty protective. So in the guest room, folded on his bed was the clean prisoner uniform. He pulled it on like always and clasped his arm bands around his biceps. He might as well take the time to explore the castle a little, find out where everything was.

     Out in the hallway he was pulling his hair back into a tie while walking. The sound of voices could be heard, although it sounded more like fits of exertion and yelps. Curious, he continued to follow them until he peered into one of the rooms. It was a training room. The paladins were there, in their combat uniforms. Hunk and Lance were talking in the corner. Ankary must have missed whatever Lance just said that was so funny, but Hunk did his best to stifle a laugh. In the main area were Keith and Shiro, practicing their sparing.

     Ankary watched for a moment to see Keith charge at Shiro with full speed, his bayard activated and ready to cut. Shiro easily blocked him with his cybernetic arm, using the force to push him back. Keith lost his balance and stumbled back, skidding on the ground. Ankary shook his head. Pitiful technique. The approach was good, but anticipating a counter attack would be more intuitive if he was the one to engage first. When he glanced next to him he saw Pidge sitting on the floor, typing away at her laptop. A small little drone beeped happily next to her and watched her work. The little drone noticed Ankary’s presence and drifted over to him, performing a sort of scan. Ankary didn’t really know how to react.

     “Don’t mind Rover. He’s just curious,” she said, not looking up. Rover then went back and took his spot next her. Ankary thought for a second before deciding to take a seat in front of her. She paused from her work and looked up at him. At first her aura read something like don’t-bother-me-when-I’m-on-my-laptop. When her eyes rested on him it changed to a more unsettled feeling. He didn’t intentionally give off an intimidating aura, but could understand her unease. It was probably the horns, tail and the crimson eyes that hid any traces of his soul inside. “Can I help you?”

     Ankary nodded and lifted his hands to sign to her. She had a blank expression on her face. “I’m sorry, I don’t know Sign Language and I haven’t installed a translator for it on my laptop.” Ankary sighed. Right. He held up a finger to indicate for her to wait a moment. He held out his arms and pressed his bare fingers to them. The bands briefly lit up at the sensory touch from him .They then projected a small screen in front of him, tinted blue, semitransparent. It looked like a detached computer screen and he noticed Pidge’s attention was now fully on him. He sensed curiosity in her aura, also shown clearly on her face. The Dayan touched his fingers to the projected screen and swiped them across, taping a few times so he could find what he needed.

     When he found it, he pulled up a small keyboard at the bottom like what a tablet had. There was a tool bar at the top, to which he pulled down the menu and selected something. The language in which the tool bar read turned to English, since that was the language he chose. The screen stayed stationary in front of him as he tapped at the keyboard to write something. _Apologies. I was asking if you could help me run a diagnostic test on these._ To punctuate the sentence, he tapped his arm bands to show her.

     Realization hit her aura with a bit of awe, “Ooooh.” Ankary was pretty sure he saw something sparkle in her eyes as she looked at the bands. “Yeah, sure. Let me run them through my laptop and I’ll scan for any bugs or viruses.” Ankary nodded and unclasped them from his biceps. He handed the two virtually indestructible pieces of armor over to her, showing her where the ports sat inside the walls. She plugged them in and typed away, waiting for a full scan to resume. Ankary waited patiently, turning towards the action of watching the two paladins train more.

     Keith blocked a swing from Shiro, pushing him off balance and holding fast in his stance. Shiro stumbled slightly and panted hard. He ducked down when the red paladin swiped his blade at him, taking the opportunity to bring his leg around and force Keith off balance. He tumbled to the ground and yelped when his back made contact with the hard surface. Ankary watched carefully, analyzing his movements and the way he transferred energy to his blade. He was too headstrong, not predicting the way Shiro could counteract his attacks and blocks. He responded with anger and raw movement before realizing too late the consequences.

     “Keith, you’re not paying attention. Patience yields focus,” the black paladin said. Ankary had heard him say that before, ever since he met him in the arena. Perhaps it was something one of his mentors at the “Garrison”, he called it, told him. Shiro had it in spades. Ankary agreed with the statement. He continued to observe them as they went back and forth. It took a while, but eventually Keith’s stamina was running low. Shiro hardly broke a sweat, but he could still sense the tiredness in his aura. The red paladin hunched over and pressed his hands to his knees. He was sweating and his breathing turned ragged. “Alright, I think it’s best if we take a break for now,” Shiro decided. “Lance, why aren’t you working on your target practice? How are you supposed to take down your opponents if you can’t manage to hit them? This isn’t Star Wars and you are not a storm trooper.”

     Pidge snickered and rolled her eyes, “You’re jokes are not getting any better. It’s a struggle to watch you try to improve them.” Shiro stuck his tongue at her and she did the same.

     “Relax, I was just showing Hunk the secret behind a trick I used with my sisters,” Lance’s nonchalant tones made Shiro roll his eyes. Hunk asked him to repeat the instructions again so he could try it for himself. Ankary watched all of them, silently. They all had their own unique systems, but worked well like a tightly wound clock together. Each of their auras revealed something about their inner thoughts or feelings. Ankary took mental notes and stored them away somewhere in his filing cabinet of memories and information.

     Shiro shook his head at them and gave both of them an order to work on their personal training while they had it. Keith took a seat on one of the benches and guzzled down a bottle of water. Come to think of it, this place was a bit warm. Maybe it was his adjustment to the unreasonably cold temperatures of the arena, but he had to pull the shaggy purple shirt off.

     Ankary got up and promptly walked to the center of the room, undoing his long hair, only to put it up into a messy bun to keep cool. He called out Shiro’s attention and signed something to him. Of course the exact translation was lost to the black paladin, but his expression and the way he dropped into a defensive stance made it clearer. He wanted to fight. Shiro looked at him, “You want to train with me?” Ankary nodded and his tail curled around him in a protective ring, the blade facing the human.

     He chuckled at the Dayan, “Does this have to do with the fact that you didn’t get your chance when we both were prisoners together?” Yes it did! The last time they were about to fight an inconvenience got in the way, interrupting it. He didn’t want to kill Shiro, he was innocent. He just wanted to face him. After they shared a cell and practiced together, he wanted a shot at him. See how much he’s improved. “Alright, but don’t kill me, okay? This isn’t a match where you have to fight for your life.” Agreed. Shiro activated his arm. A soft purple glow emitted from his hand. Ankary steeled himself.

     Shiro gritted his teeth as he raced towards him, hand ready to strike. Ankary quickly dodged and whipped his tail around to protect himself from the counter attack. Shiro’s arm collided with his tail, but wasn’t fast enough to avoid the thing wrapping around it and jerking him to the side. He lost balance and slammed into the floor. Ankary smirked at him until he was also flung from his spot. Shiro grabbed his tail and whirled him across the training room. Ankary’s agility saved him from skidding on the floor and he pulled his tail free.

     Using as much force as possible, he launched at Shiro grabbed onto his shoulders, claws digging in. He swung his legs around his waist and twisted them until he caught the paladin in a tight arm lock, pulling the wrist up towards him and around to Shiro’s back while his legs clamped around his shoulder and pushed his head as far down as possible in a triangle choke. Shiro grunted with the strain. He countered by gripping Ankary’s hand and pushing his bodyweight up and off, swinging him around until he was locked into a position.

     Ankary growled and clawed at the metal hand around his throat and tried to twist and get free, but it was useless. Shiro let out a triumphant noise until Ankary twisted out of his grip. Ankary took the opportunity to quickly slip from his off guard hold and knee him in the gut. Shiro doubled over in pain and winced. Ankary then slid down to the floor and kicked his legs to the back of the paladin’s knees, forcing him to lose balance and ultimately, his orientation.

     The Dayan hissed and coiled his tail around his arms, binding him in the process. He jerked it down and Shiro landed on his back. Before he could do anything further, the paladin kicked up and narrowly missed his stomach. Ankary quickly dispelled the attempt by darting out of the way. Shiro gritted his teeth and squirmed. He tried to burn his Galra tech hand against the hold of the tail, but the armored scales protected from any damage. The Dayan’s smirk broadened at the feeble attempt. He swung his leg high over his head with impossible flexibility until it came crashing down into Shiro’s stomach.

     Shiro groaned and coughed at the pain. Ankary pinned him down with a foot and then thrust his clawed hand down hard until it barely touched his chest right over his heart. If it were a real fight, Ankary could easily tear out his heart without a second thought. Shiro had seen him do it before. Any provoking movements and he would not hesitate to end him. Ankary was the kind of guy that no one touched unless he allowed it. Anyone who managed to break past his defense without permission got a hot serving of revenge.

     Tapping out, Shiro admitted defeat and Ankary released him. He helped him up and satisfyingly swished his tail. Shiro twisted his arm he had locked up, wincing at the brief pain there. “I think you almost dislocated my shoulder there. I forgot you’re stronger than you look,” he admitted. Ankary shrugged and signed something in return, despite his knowledge that Shiro didn’t understand. Shiro glanced around the room, “looks like our audience was impressed by our performance.” Ankary was prompted to follow his eye movements. All of the paladins were staring at them, mixed reactions. Well, it wasn’t the first time they put on a show.


	9. Chapter 9

     Prisoners don’t have the option of luxury in anything. So why they would have something like a ‘Winner’s Lounge’ Shiro didn’t fully understand. The arena naturally had gladiators that won more times than they lost. With enough victories they were allowed here. It was far from anything a 5 star hotel could offer, but it was better than being cooped up in a cell all day. Here there was a bar, tables and couches for resting and eating the slightly more edible foods, and private showers. The aliens here were usually the more burly type with plenty of scars to show as evidence for past battles won. If it weren’t for the nasty smell of blood and viscera and the fact that everyone looked like they wanted to kill each other, this place could actually be considered relaxing.

     Shiro looked around to see some opponents he’s won against. In the corner sat none other than his cellmate, Ankary. Since none of the others gave off a friendly vibe, he defaulted to joining the Dayan. Ankary saw him approach, but didn’t greet him or anything. “Figures I would find you here,” he offered. The Dayan turned his attention to him and sighed. It’s not like they don’t see enough of each other between fights, now the human wants to be friends or something? Ankary scanned the room, watching everyone. He followed the gaze, but couldn’t really find anything worth his attention.

     “Is there something you’re looking for?” Ankary used his hands to tell him, but then remembered that Shiro didn’t understand. Instead he resorted to writing on the table he was sitting at with his claws. _A_. _U.R.A._ he spelled out. “Aura? You mean, like atmosphere?” Ankary nodded, but then made the universal sign that meant “sort of”. He couldn’t continue the conversation when they were interrupted by another prisoner.

     The alien was grey in color and had spikes poking out of the dark uniform the rest of them wore. Ankary bore his fangs menacingly at them. His tail blade slowly slinking around to aim at them, ready to strike like a viper. He heard the alien speak in a language he didn’t understand. Judging by the tone of voice and the way Ankary was reacting, it couldn’t have been good.

     He decided to intercede and help defend his cellmate should anything take a physical turn. The alien said something in a language he didn’t know, but it made Ankary harden his glare at them. Shiro stood up and folded his arms across his chest, “Is there a problem here?” Both aliens stopped when they were doing and turned to look at him. The alien’s scarred features turned to something smugger. “Why don’t you save the harassment for the arena and leave my cellmate alone?”

     The alien then got his bearings and he smiled in a taunting manner, “Champion, you don’t know how anything works out here. You have a lot of nerve for challenging an actual alpha for the right to an omega.” There were those words again, alpha and omega. He’d heard it before to describe other species of opponents he fought in the arena, but it’s been popping up in more of the guard gossip, associating the term omega to Ankary. One of the guards had asked another if the Champion was an alpha, but all they got was a shrug. What does that mean?

     It doesn’t matter right now. He isn’t going to stand on the sidelines. “I don’t care about these outlandish rules. He’s not interested so back off.”

     “Don’t test me,” they sneered. “You may be the arena’s precious Champion, but you don’t intimidate me. You pathetic humans refuse to understand anything outside of the comfort of your own solar system.” He was about to snap at him again, but a soft hand grabbed his arm and pulled him away. Shiro turned his head to see Ankary standing there. There was a burning fire in his crimson eyes that looked like the gates of Hell just opened. He backed off and watched as the Dayan shot his tail out and wrapped around the alien’s neck, hauling them to their knees. It constricted slowly and the alien was clawing for breath.

     Ankary’s eyes were scorching as they seared into the alien’s soul. Shiro felt a sudden sense of dread come over him. It was unexplainable, but he backed up away slightly to get away from it. Ever so slowly Ankary’s tail just wound tighter and tighter, squeezing like an anaconda snake. Pitiful gasps managed to escape the alien’s throat and he desperately clawed more and more for freedom, but that didn’t come. The grip became so tight, Shiro was left to wonder how the neck wasn’t broken yet.

     Then there it was. The sickening snap of bone and cartilage and the pressure gave way. The alien’s lips dripped with blood of a strange pigment and Shiro watched as the light slowly left their eyes.

     Ankary’s snarl was intense, but not nearly as intense as his eyes that still burned. He withdrew his tail and returned to his spot. There was a horrific crush of the neck as the bones and pipes remained broken inside, the fur was mangled and a shiver ran up the Champion’s spine. Then his gaze was aimed and Shiro, and he froze. The Dayan didn’t make any move towards him or anything. He just observed, like he could see every little secret Shiro had to hide.

     Shiro was perfectly still. He didn’t dare move a muscle, pinned down by those deadly eyes. It was silent, except for the low mingling from the others in the room. The stare was making him uncomfortable until it was interrupted two Galran guards. They marched over to the scene and took a look at the dead body on the floor. Immediately they pushed Shiro out of the way and forced Ankary to his feet. “By the stars, Blackwell. Will you ever learn not to kill anyone outside of the arena? If there was room I would just throw you in solitary confinement.” Shiro opened his mouth to defend his cellmate, but he was silenced by their warning glare.

     Ankary hissed at them, but didn’t resist when they locked him in their restraints. Why didn’t he try to overpower them? It’s not like he couldn’t do it before. Whatever ulterior motive Ankary had, Shiro couldn’t possibly guess. He just watched as they led him away, probably back to the holding cell. The corpse on the ground still lay broken at his feet. He made a disgusted face at the gruesome sight. He’s seen and done worse in the arena in the name of survival, but for whatever reason he couldn’t explain the sudden dread he felt earlier. Where did that come from? Better to keep out of the way Ankary’s wrath than be in its way.


	10. Chapter 10

     Ankary sifted through the files Mistress Amelia sent him, including his updated training regime, to his computerized arm bands. Pidge wasn’t thrilled to give them after she ran a diagnosis and cleaned any bugs, she wanted to tinker with them more, but Ankary had important things to do. He swiped through the levels of security with his fingertips and read the briefings for each document. So far he was unable to track down any hints to Kaizar’s location. Being the in charge of so many coliseum ships meant he could be in any one of them.

     The next arena was in the Claros System. It would be a perfect opportunity to draw him out of hiding. If word got out that Ankary was ‘captured’ and presented in the arena, Kaizar would definitely be there for him. He was going to make this kill as slow and as painful as possible. The Dayan was about to swipe through to start his planning when he felt an aura enter the room. Turning his head, he saw Princess Allura come through the door to the command room. He minimized his hologram screen and placed the security lock on them.

     She approached him with that straight, proper balance that most royalty had, “Do you have a plan of attack for your next mission?” Ankary put his hands on his hips and looked down. It would really be best if they stayed out of this as much as possible. They would be safe and out of his way, but his mother would not be happy if she heard that he was being uncooperative. Well, there was a way they could be part of the plan.

     He pulled up his screen again and switched to the notepad so she could read his writing: _Yes. I have an idea. A paladin and I go disguised as prisoners. We get in and I keep the focus on me while they help the prisoners escape quietly. The less lives taken, the better. Not only will there be less collateral, but I can lower the suspicion on my file that I mm the one destroying the system from inside out. The Galra can not prove I am the one behind the destruction of their ships if I have an air tight alibi. That way I can continue bringing them down without a constant eye on me._

     Allura hummed and he mulled over the proposal. “With Pidge’s cloaking technology we transport prisoners to the castle without being detected. Who would you choose to go with you as a partner?” Ankary had no idea. His first thought would be Shiro, but that wouldn’t work. The Champion returning to the arena? That would raise suspicion for sure. Plus he had already endured enough torture, if this didn’t trigger PTSD, he wouldn’t know what did. The other paladins all went through his head, but the best one for the job he wouldn’t know. He didn’t know enough about them. _I think it would be best to propose the plan to them and let them decide._ Ankary typed up.

     Allura paused, considering the plan, “That would be the most ideal. Are you sure this will work?” Ankary nodded. He knew what he was doing. It all depended on whether whoever came with him would be able to keep up. The princess pressed a button on some sort of panel against the wall, “Paladins, I need you all to meet on the bridge in two minutes.” She beckoned Ankary to follow her out of the command room. He did so quietly, locking his arm bands again.

     They walked together down the halls, their boots clacking against the tiled floor. It was silent. Ankary got a sense of emptiness about this place. With only a few residents, the place could be considered foreboding when no life buzzed about. The hallways on the coliseum ships had patrols, but the echo of their constant presence mixed with the sharp, dark architecture made it more threatening. They rounded the corner and entered onto the bridge where everyone was waiting as asked.

     “Paladins, I believe we may have come up with a plan for the next arena. Ankary has proposed that he go aboard as a prisoner impersonator and sneak the prisoners out silently to avoid unnecessary damages and lives lost. He would like to bring a partner to help the prisoners escape while the Galra focus on him as a distraction. While the guards have their eyes on him, Pidge can come by with the green lion’s cloaking and transport prisoners from the ship to the castle,” She was very straight forward with the idea. It was simple and effective. The paladins looked around at each other. Judging by their auras, they were all comfortable with the plan.

     “Sounds like a good idea to me,” Lance shrugged. “Going undercover like a top secret investigator would be awesome with a sneaky music theme in the background.” He crouched down with his hands held out like a gun, tip toeing and aiming before pretending to shoot. “We could use code names to make it official. Like in those cheesy FBI movies.”

     “Hey, as long as fighting is not a necessity, I’m down,” Hunk held his hands up in surrender. Ankary predicted a reaction as such. The yellow paladin was just a big teddy bear under all that muscle.

     “It’s a good plan and all, princess,” Shiro piped up, standing up straight. Guess the habits of being a soldier are hard to break once the routines are drilled in your head for so long. “But who is going to go with Ankary as the partner?”

     Allura exchanged looks with the Dayan, who nodded his approval to her. She addressed the paladins, “That’s what we don’t have figured out. We thought it would be wise to ask you all and see what you decide.”

     “I’ll go,” Shiro stepped up without hesitation. Ankary held up his hand and signed an adamant ‘no’ the same time Keith said ‘over my dead body’. The other paladins expressed similar concerns, but those two were the most prominent to him. Shiro’s gaze was firm, “Look, I’m not letting any of you go through all of that. They will break all of you down if you let them, past the point of repair. Ankary and I are the only ones here that know how the system works and how to survive it. Plus the Galra tech in my arm can give access into the system.”

     Ankary approached him and sized him up, even though he was several heads shorter. Pulling out his digital notepad, he typed away: _Absolutely not, for several reasons. One, you have PTSD from that place. Neither the mission, nor your body can function should you have a mental breakdown. Two, your sneaking skills are horrendous._ Ankary gave him a deadpan face, despite Shiro’s slightly insulted one. _Three, you think the Champion returning to the arena even though he is a paladin of Voltron will not raise questions? The idea is to lower suspicion, not amplify it._

     That last part hit home with the logic credibility. However, the black paladin did raise some valid facts. Ankary erased the prompt and began typing again, this more aimed at the others: _Shiro does have a point, I admit. I need someone who can hold their own in a fight if needed._

     The room was silent. Ankary looked around and saw them all thinking about the consequences of joining him on the mission. He really had no idea how these guys would be able to handle themselves in a hellhole like that. Despite what predictions he could make based on their personalities and cognitive processes, humans have a tendency to act out differently than predicted when they’re survival mode kicks in. His eyes narrowed as he scanned each one of them. Come on. Which one of you would be best suited for this? Shiro, obviously, but the aforementioned reasons cross him off the list of possibilities.

     “I’ll do it,” one of them finally confessed. All eyes turned to the one paladin willing to take this on with confidence, Keith. Keith was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, mostly just listening and watching the others. Now, however, he decided would be a good time to step in. Ankary analyzed his aura. He was confident in his abilities. There was a certain fire to his soul, something that ran close to instinct. There was something off putting as well now that he was digging into his soul with his eyes. This paladin wasn’t human. Not totally. No, there were distinct traces of Galra in him. He also saw the handle to a small knife in one of his pouches. The symbol on it was the Blade of Marmora. So he’s one of them. Interesting.

     “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lance interjected. He gave a glare at the red paladin, who didn’t seem fazed. “There is no way you’re going on that ship. You can barely keep your impulses under control. A hot temper like yours will not go well in stealth mode.” Ankary listened to the description. Based on that it seemed that if Keith were to go with him, they would switch roles. Ankary was a master at stealth, his small, agile body can fit in small places and his lightweight amplified by his light step made him perfect for sneaking around unnoticed. His senses can pick up far away stimuli way before a human can.

     Keith, on the other hand, was part Galra. His instincts might help him survive the arena. That fire in his soul could be used for good, letting it out on his opponents with sheer emotion would definitely make him more likely to survive the matches. However, Ankary had to be the one to get attention. He cannot risk Keith’s life in the arena. Dayans are much more durable than humans in many senses and he had more experience. Crap. It would work so well, too. “Keith, no,” Shiro almost ordered. Ankary felt a tenderness coming off him with mild concern. “I’m not going to risk losing you to those…demons.”

     “Don’t underestimate me, Shiro. I can handle myself, I’m not made of glass. I’m the most capable for this mission out of this whole group.” Ooh, arrogant. Yeah, that’ll be fun to work with. Ankary already didn’t like this choice. “I’m also part Galra. I can access the system just as you can.” Keith was angry, but his voice was gentler. His violet eyes were soft when they looked at Shiro. “You worry too much. I’ll be fine.” Then it clicked. Ankary sensed a bond between the two paladins. Their auras shared a familial recognition, although not by blood. Shiro was acting more as a protective big brother than a commander to his officer. Ankary waited patiently for the black paladin to think it over.

     “Fine, I’ll go along with this, but I don’t have to like it.” His aura was guarded.

     “Dually noted,” Keith said. Both of their auras synced up and Ankary could practically smell the concern between them. Pidge groaned in disgust.

     “We get that you’re close, but can you safe it for some other time. It’s unsightly, all of your _feelings_ ,” she spoke for them. Ankary folded his arms and shook his head. Alright, guess he had a partner now. He better be able to hold himself up. The last thing he needed was babysitting his partner because he was too stupid to think consequence before action. Once it came to a consensus that everyone was on board with this plan, Ankary was ready to set in motion. There was a lot of work to do so now would be a good time to start.

     The Dayan eagerly swiped his tail back and forth. Grabbing onto Keith’s arm, he proceeded to drag him off the bridge. Keith pulled away, defensive by instinct, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you doing?” Ankary turned to face him and he waved his arms into several gestures to explain in Silent Tongue. “Um…What?” Oh, for the love of Spara! Ankary sighed with frustration and pulled out his virtual notepad from his arm bands and typed: _You and I are going to train for this mission. There is a lot you need to know before we even board the ship. The sooner we get started, the better._ Ankary expected some sort of objection since it would be a logical reaction from the red paladin, but he was surprised when he just nodded without saying anything. Keith just nodded followed him out to head to the training deck.


	11. Chapter 11

     He was thrown across the arena. That was the least of it. Ankary watched from the sidelines as Shiro was failing miserably in this battle. His strength was used up from the previous battle which was only 10 minutes ago. Seriously, how was a human like him expected to fight right after that slaughter? Still, he pressed. Every time he was knocked down he got back up. Ankary watched with frustration at his slow movements. Get. Up. And. Fight.

     Of course Shiro won, he was the Champion (Survivor was a better title), but that didn’t always mean he came out unscathed. Not only was he thrown across the arena, he had multiple gashes on his back from a whip, a deep wound in his thigh from a sword and countless bruises that were starting to turn black. Who knows what internal damage he had? When the tournaments were over for the day, both he and Shiro were returned to their cell. Shiro all but slumped down onto the cot and groaned in pain. Ankary huffed and scolded him using his signing. If he wasn’t so damn inexperienced, he wouldn’t have ended up this way. How the hell did he even survive to become the Champion in the first place?

     Shiro didn’t know anything about his signing, but Ankary conveyed the general emotion just the same on his face and the way his tail twitched. “What, you don’t think I did a good job?” Came his cheeky reply. “I didn’t die, that’s what matters.” If Ankary could visibly roll his eyes, he would. The wash of crimson red didn’t allow that. Shiro tried to laugh, but it ended in a painful cough. The Dayan knelt down next to him and examined the injuries.

     They weren’t life threatening and weren’t even as bad as he expected. Shiro just needed some rest before attempting anything. Spara knows the guards wouldn’t help even if asked. They could care less about the prisoners who died there. Whoever was worthy of living, didn’t die from any damned injury. Ankary did as best he could to help patch him up before he returned to his cot to get some sleep.

     It was a couple of hours into the night cycle before he woke back up. Shiro’s painful noises and shifting disturbed his slumber. He sat up and looked over at the Champion. Shiro was covered in sweat and his breathing was shallow and rapid. The wounds Ankary tried to bandage were bleeding through. He sighed. Humans are so fragile. Getting up, he walked over to Shiro and jostled him awake. Shiro was startled when he woke up, but relaxed when he realized his surroundings. He noticed the Dayan’s eerie crimson gaze resting down on him and his aura shifted to an uneasy feeling.

     “What’s going on?” Ankary folded his arms and shook his head in disapproval. Humans. He held out a hand for the larger male to take. Shiro hesitated, but eventually let himself get pulled up. Ankary hoisted an arm over his shoulder and helped him over to the lock of the door. “What are you doing?” Ankary wanted to groan in frustration, but no sound came out at the attempt. He held a finger to his lips. At least he would be able to understand _that_ sign. Carefully he messed with the latches on the door. Resolving to wedge his blade into the wall, he fiddled around and eventually broke the system.

     The door slid open with a silent woosh and Ankary leaned out to look into the hallway. Thankfully, no patrols were in sight and there were few during the night cycles. Guess the Galra figured their prisoners were either too scared or too stupid to attempt an escape at night. Idiots. When Ankary confirmed the coast was clear, he hauled Shiro out into the hallway. They ducked into a nearby alcove in the wall between cells as a hiding spot. There was a distant sound of footsteps and they waited in silence.

     Ankary clicked his clawed finger against Shiro’s arm around his shoulders. After about the 20th or so tap, he and Shiro made their way as fast as they could to another spot where patrols didn’t look. Thankfully Shiro could hold up most of his own weight, but Ankary was the one who had to supply the speed. Once again they waited. He tapped his fingers again for another number of taps before the sounds of footsteps grew louder. He could feel Shiro tense next to him, but he remained calm. The patrols were getting closer until they eventually passed and circled down another hallway. Ankary tapped a few more times before he darted out and to the next spot.

     They continued along the pathway, and eventually Shiro understood why he was tapping his fingers in specific counts. He was timing the patrols. Ankary didn’t really pay attention to the realization and understanding that was emitting in his aura. He was busy. Eventually they made their way through the ship and down the corridors until Ankary eventually picked his way into another room. The door slid open and he pulled Shiro inside, closing the door behind them.

     The room was dark until he found some sort of sensor or whatever to indicate movement and the lights came on. The room was mostly white with an uncomfortable looking examination table in the middle. The wall was lined with a counter and a few cabinets locked with Galra technology. A few machines sat in the corner, but their purpose was lost to both of the prisoners. It didn’t matter, that’s not what they were here for anyway.

     Ankary carefully lowered Shiro down onto the table who winced with the pain and let out a tired noise. “What is this place? Why did you bring me here?” Oh sweet Daea, so many questions. The Dayan rummaged through the room, checking slots and containers, gathering strange ingredients and items from various places. When he found what he was looking for, he placed all of it out onto the counter and sorted through everything. “Wait, I recognize this place. This is a medical room.” Ankary was sure he was going to throttle him if he didn’t shut up. He nodded impatiently.

     He didn’t have to give a command for Shiro to stay still. He wasn’t going anywhere without his help. The first thing he did was remove the offending body suit as best he could from Shiro. The Champion remained still as Ankary looked closer at the many wounds on his body. Some of them were surely going to scar over, but that wasn’t important. He applied the first of the disinfectants to the open wounds, making Shiro wince again and groan. The Dayan made sure to take care of the most severe ones first before focusing on the rest. He cleansed all of them and wrapped bandages tightly to keep them closed.

     Without any herbs he recognized, Ankary wasn’t able to put together any alchemy that would help to heal faster or for the pain, but he did recognize the medicines that were supplied there. Reading Galran was easy. Sure it was crude and rockier of a language, but he knew it well. It was an easy language to learn. He set about stitching up the huge gash in the human’s thigh and bandaged it up afterwards. By the way that Shiro was able to get here without much of a problem more than walking; internal damage was minimal if nonexistent. That was good. He was about to set to work on finding something for the pain when the door suddenly opened, startling them both.

     The aura Ankary sensed was intimidating. He recognized it from before, but instead of being scared, he felt an anger bubble inside him. Shooting a glare over to the door, his eyes burned when they rested on Kaizar. Shiro struggled to move, but Ankary held up a hand to pause him in his efforts. Kaizar entered the room a wicked smile revealing his fangs. “How precious, the little Dayan omega helping his injured human pet,” the deep voice was condescending, only making the fire burn hotter. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’d almost had a heart, Dayan.” It took willpower to launch himself at the Galra. “I suppose you do, since you’re half Sparan, pity. Such a weakness can be crippling.”

     Ankary hissed at him, getting up and circling his long tail around both him and Shiro protectively. “Kaizar,” Shiro spat. “Don’t think that just because I’m injured doesn’t mean I won’t fight you.”

     “Don’t worry; I’m not going to stop you. Raising an alarm over such a medial task would be pointless and a waste of man power. I’ll let you finish and return to your cell unharmed,” He looked over at Ankary, “That is… _if_ you accept my offer.” The Dayan remained still. He wants to make a deal? Alright. “The druids require a test subject for their next experiment. Naturally they came to me since I have the Empire’s largest supply, but they insisted that full cooperation was also a necessity. Who better than offer one of my best fighters? If you refuse, I’ll have the Champion rot in his cell and throw you into solitary confinement until you’re begging for release. You’re choice.”

     The options were pretty clear as well as their consequences. Ankary looked over at Shiro. He was in no condition to fight his way out and Ankary won’t be able to carry him and fight off the handlers and guards at the same time. He himself was also pretty tired to fight an actual fight as well. Daea. The human shook his head, “Don’t do it, Ankary. Who knows what they’ll do to you?” The Dayan didn’t really have a choice. He looked at Kaizar and pointed to Shiro before making a single gesture for ‘safe’. Kaizar was one of the few who knew the Silent Tongue. Communicating with prisoners from all different species was a useful skill.

     “Yes, The Champion will be safe as long as you cooperate.” Shiro made several attempts to get him to decline, but Ankary wasn’t listening. He nodded his head in solemn agreement, making Kaizar’s smile broaden. “Good. It seems all I need is a little leverage after all. Be a good little omega and come with me. I’ll make sure the handlers finish the job on your friend.” Ankary looked back at Shiro with a blank expression. He’ll be fine. Kaizar cuffed him in high security, electric binds. He heard the human shout more protests, but they were quieted when he was led out of ear shot.

     When he returned to his cell the next morning, a handler pushed him back in and threw his body suit to the ground. He was cold and shaking, his tail curled around himself. A rather large bruise decorated one of his shoulders. Ankary was informed that he would have 3 hours to get dressed and sleep before they brought him out to the arena and the door shut. Shiro was at his side, but Ankary hissed and pushed him away when he tried to help. Slowly the Dayan pulled his body suit on and the purple tattered shirt over it. He refused Shiro’s help when he tried to get up and slumped down on the cot, pressing a hand against his shoulder. He turned towards the wall and tried to fall asleep.


	12. Chapter 12

     Ankary stood ready in the middle of the training deck. He and Keith had been combat training for the last 45 minutes. So far Keith was unable to deflect any of his advances. He knelt over his knees, breathing hard, heavy bayard in hand. Ankary hadn’t even broken a sweat. He circled the paladin, lashing his tail behind him. Pathetic. How was he supposed to fight when he could hardly keep up? His blocks were slow, his stance was weak and he didn’t get the concept of counterattacks. This was frustratingly easy.

     Keith stood up straight, his clutch on his bayard tightened and he held it up in defense. Ankary folded his arms and shook his head. Within 2 seconds it was out of his grasp and sliding across the floor, away from them. The red paladin growled at him, his aura growing hot with frustration. Ankary remained cool and calm. He pointed to the small knife that was tucked safely in its sheath. The red paladin followed his crimson gaze. Hesitantly he pulled it out, “You want me to use this?” Ankary narrowed his eyes. Whoever was Galra in his family tree was part of the Blade of Marmora. The symbol glowed with energy. He nodded and made very simple charade instructions to activate it.

     The blade was held up and Keith did whatever he needed to do to make the blade come to life. It lengthened and the razor sharp edges broadened. The blade’s energy felt like it was almost alive. Ankary could feel it pulse in his soul. The bayard was a good weapon, but the connection Keith had with it was not strong. This was far stronger. Alright, maybe this is what he needed. The Dayan dropped down into a defensive stance. Keith did the same, determination on his brow.

     Ankary raced at him with impossible speed, baring his fangs and his claws. He swung his powerful tail around to strike, but Keith actually blocked it. Funny, the last 5 or 6 times he tried that Keith was flown across the floor. The blade of the sword collided with the scaly armor of the tail. Good block. Before he could have time to think, Keith’s wrist was seized by the tail’s coil and he was jerked around by the Dayan, trying to knock him off his feet. The red paladin yelped as he was again defeated by the counterattack. Ankary withdrew his tail before the paladin could use it against him like the last time he sparred with Shiro. Redirecting his momentum, Ankary struck the blade up over his head like a scorpion. Keith narrowly avoided it with the sword again, jumping out of the way.

     The two went at it for 30 or so minutes. Ankary took note of his fighting skills, improving greatly. Keith was faster in his movements and his thinking. He wasn’t knocked down all the time and his reaction time sped up. He thought of better counterattacks faster and he moved a lot more fluently. Ankary watched as the fire in his soul ignited brighter, like throwing gasoline at an already burning flame. Keith was much more persistent and his focus sharpened. The human even got a few genuine jabs at the Dayan and the more he practiced, the better he got. The blade’s energy connected to his soul, and they pulsed and flowed as one. This blade was far better than that bayard he had earlier. It was more inclined to help protect him and help him improve.

     From the sidelines Shiro watched. He looked at the Altean version of the clock on the wall. “Alright, that’s enough of that. It’s time for a break,” he decided. Keith stopped what he was doing and relaxed, unable to block Ankary’s next blow in time. The Dayan shook his head at the black paladin. They weren’t done. There was still so much he needed to work on. His claws scratched as they clenched onto Keith’s wrist and he quickly pulled his arm around his back and shoved him to the ground. His shoulder was in a lock and Keith grunted with the pain.

     He tiredly kicked out behind him to throw Ankary off balance, but that only prompted the Dayan to grab his ankle and twist his body so now he was on the ground, face shoved into the hard floor and now an ankle pushed up into a locked positon. Keith groaned in pain and struggled against him, but Ankary was not going to let up. “Hey, let go. Didn’t you hear? It’s time to rest.” Ankary shook his head. He glared up at Shiro and prayed his silent demand made it through his head.

     “Come on, Ankary. Let him up, he needs to rest. He’s been pushing really hard.” Shiro’s voice was soft and relaxed. The Dayan sighed and reluctantly released him, pushing himself up off the ground with a light skill almost like a cat. Keith slowly got back up and he put his blade away. He dragged himself over to a bench against the wall and sat down, Ankary followed behind him, any exhaustion barely registering. Shiro patted the red paladin on the back, “You did a good job. Keep it up.” Ankary scoffed. Good? That was beginners. Sure he was better defended with his Marmora blade, but there was still plenty that he needed to learn. Shiro was still kind and gentle with his tone, “Really Ankary, no one I know has the same stamina or endurance you do. Give him a break.”

     That was irrelevant. The arena doesn’t care if you’ve trained all your life to stay alive. The Galra only care if you have what it takes to survive, no matter how the fight was weighted. It was never a fair fight, all you had to rely on was your skill and if you died, then clearly you weren’t good enough to be there in the first place. Ankary had watched too many inexperienced prisoners with no background in combat just walk out to their slaughter in the arena. He wasn’t about to let a paladin of Voltron not have the necessary abilities to stay alive during a fight.

     Keith tipped a water bottle up and downed more than half of it. Ankary went to grab the discarded bayard. It was a simple tool with a comfortable grip; the blade only came out when it was needed. He examined it further, turning it to see the intricate designs of Altean technology. The energy was strong, but it could easily be bent to the will of the holder. In the past Voltron was much stronger. The paladins had a bond with the bayards and the lions that was almost impossible to break. Ankary’s best guess as to why it was so weak was from lack of use and the paladins were fairly new to this. If they want to be stronger like the paladins of the past, there was a lot of bonding needed.

     “You got better during the last half,” Shiro commented. “I saw faster movements, better blocks and more effective attacks.” Ankary handed the bayard back to Keith. He pointed to the Marmora blade and made a gesture by holding up his arms, as if to say ‘strong’ or something like it. Then he indicated the exact opposite with the red paladin bayard. He had a better connection to the Marmora blade than the red lion _._ It took a moment for Keith to understand, but when he did his aura dropped to a more solemn tone.

     “Guess I really am more Galra than human. I can’t get my bond with my lion to get any stronger, but this sword was more than willing to work with me,” Keith did not sound happy. It didn’t take detective work to understand why he had an inner conflict with his heritage. It was hard to accept that you had a connection with the very people the war was waged against. All of the judgement and scrutiny and stereotypes that came with it were something the Dayan could understand. He experienced it too because he was half Dayan. He identified more with his Dayan side than his Sparan side, but that didn’t mean that other species of sentient intelligence liked it. He too was judged based on the blood that ran in his veins.

     Shiro shifted the conversation elsewhere, “Is there any other preparation before we start this mission?” Hm, good question. What else needed to get done? Ankary looked at the holographic screen of his computer system on his arms and pulled up the regime that Mistress Amelia had sent. Within just a few days they managed to almost complete all of the necessary preparations for the arena in the Claros System. Things like coming up with a plan, working out technical communication and what to do as backup plans in case the alpha plan failed were all on the list. Next to combat training, Ankary worked with Keith to better his stealth skill and taught him basic Silent Tongue signs they could use if Ankary was unable to use his arm bands to communicate.

     Coran had been working on polishing the working conditions of the healing pods and Lance and Hunk worked on their own defensive skills. Pidge was doing research on the prisoners, improving her hacking systems and finding a navigational path with the schema that Thace gave them. Ankary had his own personal assignments, but some were more urgent than others so he could put them off. The princess was busy locating the coordinates of the coliseum ship and getting them there. It orbited a nearby gas planet which would throw off sensors, keeping them hidden from the Galra.

     Ankary scrolled down to see what was left to do. Everything was checked off. The last thing needed was a disguise for Keith. Thace managed to find a suit when he gave them the plans to the ship. Ankary showed them that last part. “Right,” Shiro said. “Keith, take 10 and when you get back, change into the suit so you can practice with it.” Keith only nodded and left the training room. Ankary watched after him, narrowing his eyes. When he left, he got Shiro’s attention. The leader of the paladins didn’t know anything about the Silent Tongue, but he was getting better at picking up general gestures.

     With his hands, Ankary made two fists, one towards his body and one away. He brought the further one closer so his fists were now pressed together. He saw the realization on Shiro’s face after he thought about the gestures. “Oh! Yeah. Keith and I are close. He’s like a brother to me.” Ankary nodded, but then smirked. His laughter was silent, but Shiro caught it by his visible display. “What’s so funny?” Ankary’s soundless laughter died down and he pointed to Shiro before making the sign that meant “father”. The black paladin didn’t understand a whole lot, but he did understand some signs. This being one of them.

     “What? I am not,” he protested. Ankary’s smug expression said otherwise. He was totally the dad of the whole team. They ask permission from him, he gives them either praise or parental scolding and he makes awful dad jokes. Ankary made an over dramatization of his points and he was stuck in his fit of laughter. Shiro scoffed and folded his arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He totally does. Nothing in the universe could possibly make the Dayan change his mind.


	13. Chapter 13

     Backing up against the wall, Ankary doubled over in pain. No. No. No. No. No. No. This can’t start now. He pressed his forearms to his stomach and lower abdomen, willing the fire to go away. It was so hot. The body suit let his body breathe, but it wasn’t enough to keep cool. The cold metal of the cell wall felt good, but the pain just wouldn’t go away. Shiro put a hand on his shoulder, “Ankary, you okay? What’s wrong?” The touch made his senses react, not in a desirable way. The Dayan whipped around and hissed, smacking his hand away and pointing the blade at the end of his tail at him. Shiro, startled by the reaction and the threat, stepped back and put his hands up in surrender.

     Ankary couldn’t hold the defensive threat for long and he slid down to the floor. His face was flustered and he could feel the gratuitous amount of sweat and whatever else seep through the fabric. It was straining around his body. His jaw was tight and he winced from the pain. He is not going to give in to this. He’ll fight every single alien that tries to come near him, even though his body betrays him.

     Shiro had no idea what to do. Ankary looked towards the door, he could feel the aura of a patrol walking by, Galran. They could hear the footsteps coming closer. Ankary gestured for Shiro to get their attention. So he did. The human banged on the secure door of the cell, yelling for the patrol to get their attention. Ankary pulled his body up tightly, trying to make himself as guarded as possible. The patrol must have heard the call because now their auras were getting stronger faster, meaning they were approaching quickly.

     Two guards peered into the indestructible window that was the only way to see into the cell. Shiro’s aura was panicked, but he remained level headed, “There’s something wrong with my cellmate. He needs medical attention.” The guards looked over at the Dayan, taking note of his current state. A sinister smile crossed one of the guards’ lips.

     “He doesn’t need medical attention,” the calmness in his voice was more aggravating than the actual refusal to help. Ankary glared at him, baring his fangs. The guard paid no mind and returned his attention back to Shiro. “He’s just going through a natural process for his kind.”

     Ankary saw Shiro’s anger in his stance, “What are you going on about? Can’t you see he’s in pain? He needs help.”

     “Certainly, and you can help if he permits you to. Although I wouldn’t go near him if he’s hostile to the idea. This one is pretty dangerous even if he currently is incapacitated at the moment.”

     Shiro looked at Ankary with a sympathetic look, “I…don’t understand.”

     “Of course you don’t. You humans are so far behind in your knowledge compared to the rest of the universe.” The other guard chipped in. Ankary felt his anger build in his chest. Get him a suppressant or sedative already! “Let me put it like this. Your cellmate here has a biological timer that requires a physical partner periodically for a whole week, whether he likes it or not. If it goes ignored, he suffers pain until the need is met. One of his own kind is naturally the best option, but a substitute like you would probably do just fine.”

     Ankary was too busy worrying about his own frustration to really care about Shiro’s sudden embarrassment. “I’d make the best of this opportunity if I were you, Champion,” The first guard sneered. “You have no idea how many would envy to be in your shoes. Have fun.”

     Ankary managed to pull himself up to his feet and he charged at the door. Ramming into it with his full body strength, he pounded a fist at the window and hissed at the guard. His crimson eyes burned right into their souls. At least he got some satisfaction for feeling the fearful shiver of their auras when he did so. The pain quickly took over again and he winced, collapsing again when his legs weakened.

     The guards laughed as they returned to their patrols, leaving a suffering Dayan and a flustered human to their own. It was silent in the cell, except for Ankary’s obvious suffering. The fire that burned inside him screamed to be put out. He shivered and pulled his tail around himself. Shiro sat next to him, but thankfully didn’t come too close or anything. Just having someone as sympathetic company made the suffering a little less painful.

     “Listen,” Ankary flinched at the voice involuntarily. Why does this have to happen now?! “I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to. But if you need any help, don’t hesitate to ask. I hate seeing anyone in pain, especially if I can help it, but it’s your choice.”

     Ankary’s expression softened when he looked over at him. Shiro was too pure of heart for his own good. Humans are a strange species that can be pretty unpredictable in their nature. One can be completely hard and world-hating while another can be easily scared and timid. One could be all for the sufferings of others, but there are humans who will do anything to help. Humans are the most varied among themselves compared to the rest of the universe. The Dayan was pretty fortunate to finally room with a cellmate that wasn’t focused on their own selfishness. He signed a simple thank you to Shiro for his consideration.

     The pain surged through his body, demanding he ask him for help. However, Ankary was as stubborn as a mule. He’d rather have his soul ripped out than willingly admit he needed anyone. Dragging himself to his feet again, he forced his legs to carry him over to his cot. He dropped down on it like a log and curled up as best he could. Shaky breaths escaped him and he squirmed for a second, trying to will everything to go away. He heard Shiro get up and go back to his own cot. Maybe if he just tried to get some sleep he can ignore it for as long as possible.

 

* * *

 

     Ankary was out of commission for that whole week. The Dayan remained in the cell while Shiro left to fight in the arena. He demanded that the druids do something for him, but their reasons for not helping were as heartless as he expected.

     Giving the Dayan suppressants would be a waste of medical supplies and transporting him to the med bay required security they didn’t have. He killed his last cellmates who tried anything, which is unacceptable without an audience. Kaizar would not be pleased if he found out that Ankary was the source of more trouble than he already was.

     If Shiro was so committed to helping him, then he would have to convince Ankary to let him, but the Dayan was obviously against that idea. When the matches were over for the day and Shiro still somehow managed to survive, he didn’t put up a fight when he was returned to the holding cell. He was practically shoved inside by the handlers and the door slammed shut behind him. He dropped down onto the cot, covered in sweat, bruises, cuts, his own blood and a whole spectrum of other slaughters. He felt so exhausted; his muscles were so heavy under their own weight. The hard, cold slab of the cot did not bring much relief and he groaned. A headache was forming in the back of his head.

     Ankary forced himself over to Shiro’s side, sitting on the ground as his legs were too weak to stand. Second day into this nightmare and he managed to stay levelheaded when his mind was undoubtedly trying to override his control. Shiro already offered multiple times to do something just so he doesn’t have to be in unnecessary pain. Still, the Dayan turned him down and oppressed the need. Dayans must have far more advanced willpower and self-control than humans.

     Sharp pressure to the wound in his side made Shiro hiss. Ankary’s crimson eyes focused on the gash there across his arm, bleeding profusely. He ripped off a bottom section of the tattered purple prisoner shirt and wrapped it tightly around the pressure point in Shiro’s arm. Ankary did his best to treat the other wounds, although they weren’t serious. His face was red and his touch was like a furnace. His breathing was heavy and his body trembled, but he remained on task to his work. He reached for a cut on his shin until Shiro grabbed his wrist, “leave it, I’ll be fine.” He noticed the flinch in Ankary’s posture, temporarily shifting his attention away from how tired he was.

     A pleasant scent drifted in the air. It was more potent than the last couple of days, probably due to Ankary’s proximity. He could smell it the whole time, but Ankary moved as far away from him as possible, until now when he’s hurt. The smell somehow calmed him, made him forget about the fact that he was injured. The Dayan turned around and leaned his back against the edge of the cot, resting his weight against it and clenching a trembling fist over his stomach. “How are you feeling?” Shiro’s voice was hoarse from exerting himself today in the arena.

     Ankary’s face scrunched up in with tension. He made a weak gesture with his hands over his gut, one that Shiro guessed meant ‘hurt’ or ‘injured’ or something like that. Ankary used it before whenever he got a new bruise or cut or whenever Shiro got a new battle wound. Shiro rested his hand on his shoulder, “Anything I can do to help?” The Dayan paused for a moment. Ankary snapped out of his daze and he shoved Shiro’s arm off him. His glare was not very threatening to Shiro, but he knew the weight that it carried. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry. It’s your call. I’ll just be over here, dying.”

     Ankary managed a half-hearted laugh. His cellmate’s injuries now treated, he returned to the small corner he’d been cooping himself up in and thought of anything that would distract from the pain in his lower gut.


	14. Chapter 14

     Keith could feel Ankary’s eyes on him, all the time. It was creepy. He felt like those crimson eyes bore into his very being, as if he could see every little detail or thought or emotion. It wasn’t just when they trained; it was also when they were all in a meeting, and even now as they made their way quietly through the coliseum ship. Ankary had that unreadable expression towards everyone, refusing to give away any hints to what he was thinking, but those eyes were so analytical, observing the surroundings and calculating something the red paladin didn’t know. Lance admitted out loud to him that he felt the same way. So Keith wasn’t the only one he was observing, but it seemed that he had his eye on him more than the others.

     The Galra ship was just the same as all the others he and the other paladins infiltrated in the past. The same purplish, pink lights that illuminated the dark, claustrophobic hallways were ominous. The way the harsh angles and the black and silver metal-like materials were cold and void of any soft warmth. That was another thing. The ship was freaking cold! The prisoner uniforms he and Ankary wore were very airy and flexible. Ankary was right when he mentioned the impressive range of motion they allow, far better than the paladin suits they wore. Although he did feel naked without the hard plates of armor on him. When he first put it on he was kinda self-conscious about how tightly it clung to his body. The black paladin reassured that he would get used to it.

     They moved silently through the ship, during the night cycle. Ankary occasionally looked over his shoulder back at him, as if making sure he could keep up. They moved from hiding spot to hiding spot in the corridors, waiting for patrols to pass. Prisoners aren’t free to wonder about so Pidge hacked into the system and assigned them to a holding cell, Ankary under his own name and Keith unregistered so he wasn’t assigned to any matches in the arena. They moved from floor to floor and corridor to corridor until they made it to the prisoner cells. Pidge directed them to their designated “home base” through their headsets and they were allowed inside. She also provided the passcode so they could slip in and out whenever they pleased.

     Ankary sat down on the floor and pulled up his hologram computer screen when he activated his arm bands. Keith sat down and leaned against the wall. Ankary typed away at the screen before him, pulling up diagrams of the ship and a layout grid of texts that Keith couldn’t read. With the plan for this mission, Thace provided the names of all the prisoners held in this coliseum. One list consisted of those who were innocent and kept just as prisoners of war. The other list was names of those prisoners were legitimately guilty of their crimes, locked away on charges that weren’t just “prisoners of war”. They would save all of the prisoners, but keep those who are guilty under lock down while the innocent are returned home safely by the Blade of Marmora.

     Keith waited for Ankary to give the signal so they could save a few prisoners tonight and space out the other rescues for the next few days. “Explain to me again why we can’t just take down the guards and save everyone in one night?” Ankary lifted his head up to him, lowering his screen. The Dayan sighed before he brought up the notepad on his computer and typed something out in English: _Patience. This mission is more than a barge in, guns blazing, get everyone and get out. The first reason being that we do not have enough back-up to take on a coliseum ship full of soldiers from the inside out. Secondly, if we did that we could be risking more lives than we would be saving. Thirdly, this mission is far more complicated in its intricate design that the Blade of Marmora and I have._

     Keith scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Sounds just like those cowards. Hiding away so they don’t accidentally break a nail.” He noticed Ankary’s tail twitch with irritation. He continued typing: _If your only choice to save someone, innocent and guilty alike, over the life of the other paladins, would you risk it? What if Shiro’s life was at stake?_ Keith flinched at that last part. That posed so many moral self-evaluations that he did not want to think about. Would he risk Shiro’s life over someone like a prisoner who was guilty of many crimes and whose bloodlust could not be satiated?

     Ankary sighed and shook his head: _Didn’t think so._ He erased all of the text while Keith was trying to push away dark thoughts. The Dayan typed something else on his pad for him to read: _I am in the Galra prisoner system and I am on the top of the suspect list as to who is destroying all of the coliseum ships. The only way I can clear my reputation is to prove that I am not the spy, hence why you are here. If I were discovered as the spy, there is no telling how many lives the Galra would take as collateral to bring me down. If they cannot prove me guilty with an alibi, my reputation is clear and I can go on incognito without eyes always watching me. Understand?_

     Keith scowled at him, but said nothing and nodded. He didn’t like this idea of not manning up to a fight, but admittedly he did have a point. It would save more people this way. The Galra can’t stop the culprit if they can’t tell who the culprit is. It would be possible to draw him out with a trap, but if the Empire can’t draw out the identity or the location of the Blade of Marmora for the past 10,000 years, it’s highly unlikely that they would be able to think of something now.

     Ankary closed the notepad and continued on with his work, Pidge’s voice came over the headset, “Alright, you guys will be good to go. I’ve changed the schedule plan for tomorrow’s matches to fewer and less intense. Not all gladiator matches have to result in death by the looks of it, so I’ve changed it so none of them require death as the end goal. How the prisoners react to these rule changes is…out of my control.” Her voice was tense for that last part. It’s true that the fights didn’t have to have to end in death; they would go through gladiators faster than they could acquire them. There was no telling, however, if the prisoners will actually give in to the need to kill their opponent or not and succeed.

     “It’s alright, Pidge, we appreciate the help,” Shiro sounded much more reassuring than Keith could ever offer. There was a moment of pause over the headsets.

     “As for right now, I can take back a few prisoners in my lion once you guys are ready. Don’t save too many that the guards will notice a depletion in their rosters, or they’ll get suspicious. And be quiet. If you can manage to sneak them out without triggering an alarm, that would be ideal. I’m sending you the designated cells to clear for tonight.”

     “Roger,” Keith replied. Ankary flicked his tail and pulled up the schema of the ship, particularly the prison cells. A couple of cells were highlighted near them and the path to the green lion waiting was close by as well. The red paladin got up from the floor, Ankary following behind.

     They entered the hack into the security system and the cell door opened quietly. In an instant both of the prisoner impersonators ran out to the nearest hiding spot. Keith could hear the footsteps of a patrol behind them. Ankary pulled him along until they darted to the next hiding spot and waited. Keith felt his heart pound in his chest when the patrol got closer and closer. Soon they were right around the corner and he almost grabbed his blade to right, but Ankary held up his hand to stop him. They waited. The steps got louder and louder until he was sure they would spot them.

     Then they receded, going down another hallway. Keith let out a breath and followed Ankary’s lead as they dashed out from cover and ran as lightly as they could to the next spot. Together they navigated the ship; Keith tried his best to make a mental map of the place so it would be easier to locate where certain places were and how to get there. Again and again they repeated the same movements. The darkness of the hallways and their suits provided ample cloaking in the dark crevices of the corridors. The patrols were few and lightly manned, but still present.

     Finally they made it to the two cells that needed clearing, one just down the hall from the other. Keith worked on getting the door open while Ankary was doing the same to the other. He felt relief when the access code worked and the door opened. Inside were a few prisoners, 4 at most. Each of their scared faces were shocked at the open doors and cowered in the corner, huddling together. Two were of the same species, but they were all unique in their appearances, shapes and sizes. All of them had their own version of the prisoner uniform to fit their bodies just like prisoners the paladins saved in the past. “Don’t be scared, I’m here to rescue you.”

     They all looked at each other, then back at him. One of the prisoners was the one to speak up, “Y-you’re here t-to save us?” Male in intonation. Keith nodded and held out a hand. He glanced over his shoulder. No signs of a patrol coming.

     “Yes, but you need to be quiet. Come with me, I’ll get you out of here.” The alien that spoke to him turned to the others and made various sounds. That must have been another language or something. Moments like these reminded Keith that any version of the human language was not always universal. Ankary and his group of prisoners shuffled over to Keith. By the time they got everyone going, Ankary was the one to take charge of the movements. Saving in smaller groups was a lot easier than larger groups, especially when the paladins had a teammate.

     Their movements weren’t as quiet as Keith hoped, but they all managed to evade the patrols and make their way to the green lion waiting at a blind spot of the ship. Pidge was waiting outside and guided the prisoners in as best she could. There was some mild complaining about how everyone will fit, but she’ll make it work. When she was about to depart, she addressed Keith and Ankary, “That does it for tonight. Thankfully this coliseum ship doesn’t have too many prisoners to make this a long mission, but don’t draw attention or they will all be in danger.” Keith nodded and she specifically turned to the Dayan. “As for you, I’ve scheduled you to remain in the arena most of the matches tomorrow. While you’re doing that, Keith will be exporting prisoners.” Ankary signed something to her, probably some way of saying that he understood what she was telling him.

     Over the headset, Lance, Hunk, Shiro, Allura and Coran all made their own wishes for good luck and reassurance that they will be watching and helping as much as possible. Pidge suddenly lunged her small body at Keith into a tight hug, “Please be careful, and don’t get each other killed.” He smiled and mirrored her affection. After she left with her lion, both he and his companion made their way back to their cell.


	15. Chapter 15

     The following day was the real start of their mission. The harsh sound of the cell door opening woke them up and a bright light from the corridor blinded them. Keith winced and held his hand over his eyes until they adjusted. When he could see clearly he could make out the tall, bulky forms of two Galra soldiers and another Galra dressed in a different looking uniform. The guards were there just in case something went wrong and the prisoners tried to escape using any defensive mechanism specific to whatever species the prisoners were. This wasn’t going to be easy.

     “On your feet, prisoners,” the oddly dressed Galra commanded in Galran. Keith barely knew the language, but he was getting better at understanding the more he fought them or spoke with the Blades of Marmora. Ankary sneered at him, but did as he was told, Keith following with a similar expression. The handler looked over to the Dayan with a wicked smile. “As soon as I heard that Ankary Blackwell was going to be transported to my arena I had to come down here in person. It would be rude if I couldn’t greet you myself.” Ankary hissed at him, his tail lashing from side to side.

     Ankary and Keith followed them to their destination. Training with him, Keith knew he could easily fight the guards off, but that was not the plan. Ankary put up some resistance, probably to make the act more authentic. All of them walked in silence for the most part. The lead handler, Keith guessed, looked into Ankary’s crimson red eyes. “You’re reputation credits you to be a skilled and merciless fighter. I hope to see that in today’s matches.” The smile on the Galra dropped to a serious look, “take them to the viewing bay.”

     Together they all headed down the dark hallways towards the arena. Keith could hear the sound of applause the closer they got. A few moments later and they were led into a holding cell with two doors, one that locked right behind them and the other leading into the battle ground of the arena. Ankary heaved an irritated sigh before slumping against the wall with his arms crossed. Keith looked out of the cell to see what he had to anticipate.

     Sand covered the ground of this arena. A few dusty rock formations were scattered about. They would make great temporary shelters if needed. Bodies of various alien races littered the ground as well. The wounds and blood and gore were still fresh. The previous match must have been a complete slaughter. Two aliens remained in their current show down. One was covered in long robes, almost like the druids that were in Zarkon’s inner circle. They hovered a couple of feet in the air with some sort of electricity sparking from their hands, black in color. The opponent was a larger beast. The flesh was fat and bulbous on the form, like an overfed caterpillar.

     A shrill cry erupted over the cheering of the crowd and the giant caterpillar charged the robed alien. In one overwhelming cloud of sand and dust, the beast was shot down when a shot of energy was blasted at them. The large body of the alien skidded when they crashed to the ground. The crowd waited in silence for any sort of movement. The robed alien decided better safe than sorry as one last bolt of energy electrified the caterpillar until the air smelled of cooked flesh. Keith stepped away from the bars when the crowd cruelly cheered on the winner after they were sure the alien was slain.

     “The poor Zyla,” A new voice uttered half to themselves. Keith glanced over to see a small group of prisoners huddled together in the corner of the holding cell. Why hadn’t he noticed them until right then? The one that spoke looked out into the arena with sad eyes, if you could even call them that. “Another innocent life taken by force.” The red paladin couldn’t help but feel a twang of guilt clench his heart. If he were out there he could have easily taken that robed alien down. One more failure added to team Voltron.

     He looked over to see Ankary staring hard out into the arena. His brow knitted together and his eyes narrowed, but he didn’t even blink as he continued to watch. While the small group of prisoners were shaking and sniffling in the corner, the Dayan remained perfectly still. He watchedwith that same calculated look. “What’s the plan?” he asked Ankary. The Dayan continued to observe the scene, but he made basic, understandable gestures to Keith that he was going to fight and the red paladin was going to stay hidden and save the others.

     Ankary straightened up and approached the door that led into the corridors of the prisoner’s barracks. He pressed a pointed ear to the metal and tapped on it. What the hell was he doing? The Dayan stepped back and forcefully kicked the door with a powerful blow. The sound started the prisoners in the corner and they all whipped around to see the Dayan with shocked horror on their faces. Another kick and he made an indent the shape of his foot. Sparks of electricity flew out and the security lock short circuited. The metal door was then forced open and the two guards that stood vigil were taken by surprise. Without much further thought Keith grabbed his hidden Marmora blade and attacked one of them while Ankary attacked the other.

     Not a whole lot of energy was spent to take them down. Keith looked over to Ankary who motioned for the other prisoners to run. When they didn’t move, Ankary swung a hard fist into the wall, creating a loud bang that shocked them out of their stupors. He made eye contact with the Dayan and a silent understanding was passed between them. Keith faced the prisoners and shouted, “Follow me, I’ll get you all to safety!” The prisoners ran from their corner into the corridor. Keith looked back one last time to see the bars of the cell lifting up into the arena and Ankary stepped out into the ring. He took off down the hall.

 

* * *

 

     By the time Keith finished getting the designated prisoners off the ship and back to the Castle of Lions, it wasn’t until hours later that he finished for the first day. Taking down the guards wasn’t as hard as he thought, partially thanks to Ankary’s advanced training lessons and partially thanks to the other prisoners who actually knew how to fight. They took the less common routes of the patrols that Pidge guided them with and the patrols that they did encounter met a swift end.

     The looks on the faces of the other prisoners were scared and anxious. Once they found out they were being rescued, they turned to hopeful looks laced with gratitude. Seeing such relief was one of the rewards for being a paladin of Voltron. No alarms were raised, no evidence of escape and not a single life lost under the red paladin’s watch.

     At the end of today’s tournaments he managed to get back to his and Ankary’s cell before they could suspect anything. For all these guards and handlers knew, he was fighting in the arena or they just forgot about him entirely. Prisoners are expendable, no point in remembering any of them since they will mostly likely die as soon as they arrive. He waited inside the cell for a while until the door swished open and a couple of guards forced Ankary inside. They shut locked the door.

     Ankary hissed at them and thrashed in his restraints they “accidentally” forgot to remove. Keith pulled out his sword and somehow got the energy connected between him and the blade to force the restraints to break. It took a moment to really understand how strong his connection to the blade was. Dysphoria settled into his heart thinking about how weak his connection to the red lion was compared to the Blade of Marmora sword Ankary insisted on him bringing.

     The Dayan signed a quick ‘thank you’ to Keith. “I got the prisoners to the Castle safely,” he informed. Ankary nodded and rubbed at many of the sore spots on his body. He winced when he touched a few places like his arms, legs and shoulders. Keith could barely see through the darkness of the cell that the Dayan was actually covered in multiple wounds. “Are you okay?” Who knows what kind of beating he faced in the arena to warrant such injuries? He moved closer to the Dayan to help him, but Ankary held his hand up to stop him. He nodded that he was fine.

     Collapsing down onto the cot, Ankary winced again and wrapped his tail around him. Keith decided to follow suit. He tried to make himself comfortable on the less than suitable bed that was no more than a slab of metal. The chill made his body shiver, but he decided to not let it bother him. He had to sleep in worse conditions before and this certainly won’t be the last time. Hopefully he’ll at least be able to get enough rest to carry through with the mission tomorrow. This was just the start.


	16. Chapter 16

     Shiro bolted awake when he felt a sharp pain to his face. Based on how much it stung, it felt like a slap. At least it was enough to wake him up. His eyes shot open and he saw Ankary standing next to his cot in the dark cell. The Dayan’s eerie crimson eyes stared down at him. Shiro shook the sleep off as best he could, even though his body and his mind screamed for him to go back to sleep. “Uugh…Wha—What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

     Ankary shook his head. In a very authoritive manner he commanded Shiro to get up using his hands. The human groaned and wanted to protest, but over the course of rooming with this guy for heaven knows how long (he lost track of any sense of time a few weeks after becoming a prisoner), he got used to Ankary’s way of communication.

     Reluctantly he rose to his feet. Ankary somehow got the cell door open. Together they ran down the corridors using Ankary’s method. Hide. Count. Run. Hide. Count. Run. Hide. Count. Run. Through the corridors and passageways they navigated. Out of the corner of his eye Shiro spotted the docking port through one large doorway. Oh how his heart ached to just sprint over to an escape pod and get out of there. Leave all of this behind and find his way back home. However, that was not the case seeing as how not a single ship was docked, not even an escape pod.

     With a heavy heart they continued on to wherever Ankary was taking them. Shiro followed his smaller companion until they reached their destination. By now Shiro recognized and mapped out the layout of the ship with Ankary’s help. If he was correct, they were right outside the arena battle field. Ankary messed around with the lock system and got it to unlatch. He sprinted in with Shiro following behind him shortly.

     It was rather strange seeing how empty the atrium was. The battle field was clear of any landscape. No rocks, foliage, water, nothing. It was completely bare. Metal from the floor was the only thing in the battle field. He looked around to the emptiness. Rows and rows of seats that he only ever saw packed full of Galra and allies to the Galra. Now he could feel the kenopsia. It was silent. “Why are we here?” He looked back to his cellmate who stood on the opposite side of the arena.

     He threw the Champion a stiff, metal looking rod, who caught it with ease. The Dayan twirled his own metal rod in his hand as he gracefully stepped up to the center of the arena. Then it clicked in Shiro’s head. “Wait, hang on. You want me to fight you?” Ankary nodded firmly and slipped into a wide attack stance, rod on the defense. “You’re going to get us killed if we’re found out.” Ankary shook his head. Charades was the most effective way to communicate with the Dayan seeing as Shiro didn’t understand Sign Language, or whatever the other title it was given by the guards who mentioned it.

     Using mime-like motions, Ankary pointed to the empty seats and acted like he was an audience member cheering. They aren’t going to get killed unless an audience is watching. Seriously, the worst they can do is sedate them and bring them back to their cell. They might put them both in restraints to keep them from escaping again, but beyond that, no harm was to come to them unless necessary.

     Ankary made sure that Shiro understood what he was saying before he charged and swung his weapon across in an attack. The Champion dodged on reflex. In half a second Ankary jabbed at him again, this time knocking him down on his back. Shiro landed with a hard thud on the metal ground, almost hitting his head and getting a concussion. Ankary sighed and shook his head in disappointment. He reached out a hand to the Champion. Ankary pulled and holy shit he was almost lifted off his feet! Damn this guy was stronger than he looked. 

     Ankary mimicked his stance again and instructed Shiro to do the same. Using his hands, he tapped the human’s shoulders, arms and back to correct the stance. He did as he was told and watched when his opponent slowly swung his rod through the air to demonstrate how to block an attack and how to counter it. Shiro had no choice but to learn quickly because as soon as he was shown the technique, Ankary was back at him again with his rod, ready to break a bone or crush his vitals. The Dayan swung his staff around and aimed for Shiro’s legs, only to be blocked by the human’s own rod. Shiro countered by grabbing the rod and jerking it so Ankary would let go, but the Dayan persisted. He used the grip Shiro had and twisted his rod, in turn, twisting Shiro’s arm. He yelped and let go when the strain was too much to keep holding. Ankary smirked and charged him again.

     For hours and hours they practiced in the arena. One thing that Ankary discovered was how fast Shiro was at learning. He picked up on the technique pretty quickly. This was the kind of training he never got back at the Garrison. Basic combat was part of the regime. Actually using it never seemed to be as much a necessity as he thought. The training he got back at the Garrison was aimed more towards fighting off other humans. Humans were skilled in their combat, but that’s all they ever learned. This was not fighting other humans.

     This was fighting a whole new type of opponent. Here he was pitted against opponents 3 or 4 times his size with tentacles, claws, tails, arms, spikes and whatever else was there. It was a miracle he was able to last this long on his own. They gave him the title Champion because he never lost a fight, but he was pretty sure that was due to his human instinct to adapt in any way to survive, not from actually having skill. There was also the fact that some of his opponents were scared prisoners like himself. Not all of them knew how to fight either and it ended up costing them their lives.

     Over and over they practiced together. Night after night Ankary demonstrated different fighting skills and how to combat them. The weapons varied from rods to swords, maces, whips, projectiles, laser guns, etc. etc. There were even a few nights where the Dayan didn’t give him any weapons and he had to rely on his bare hands to keep him alive. If lucky the handlers allowed a choice of weapons. Sometimes no choice was presented. Ankary wanted him to be ready in case he was dealt a bad hand. The practice really did show in his every day performance in the arena. Shiro applied the skills Ankary taught him on how to fight and win against his enemies and stay alive. Again and Again he fought, won, survived.

     One particular match he was permitted a partner, pitted against two other pairs of prisoners. Ankary was right there at his side, ready to fight. Ankary covered his ass during that match. One slice of his tail blade to the alien’s vitals saved Shiro from decapitation. The Dayan was so fast in his reflexes while Shiro fought using brute strength. They came out victorious, but if it weren’t for the crimson eyed male, the Champion would have died. Both of them worked well together. Perhaps if Shiro ever did manage to escape, he could take Ankary with him. Save them both from this place.

     However, cold, cruel reality came crashing back. That was the night that the cell door opened and four guards stood there, surrounding someone. That someone wasn’t clearly visible. They were cloaked in long dark purple robes with designs accenting them. Stock white hair draped down past the shoulders and the hood made it impossible to see their face. Before Shiro could jump to his feet an intense pain shot up his spine. He screamed, waking Ankary up in the process.

     The Champion groaned in pain and writhed where he was. It felt like he was electrocuted. The robed figure laughed sinisterly. Everything moved in slow motion. He turned his head over to see Ankary darting to his feet, but two of the guards overpowered him before he had time to properly fight them off. The other two grabbed Shiro roughly and yanked him to his feet. He could barely stand and felt like he was going to be sick or pass out.

     “Madam Haggar, what would you like us to do with them?” A low voice asked. Ankary hissed viciously and struggled to free himself, but he couldn’t. Haggar pointed to the ground and some spark of what Shiro could only describe as black lightning zapped through the air with a buzz. A moment later and an odd looking symbol in the middle of a circle appeared on the floor below the Dayan’s feet. The two guards released him and quickly jumped out of the rune. Ankary snarled and bore his fangs, whipping his tail around in defense. He made one attempt to lunge at the witch, but was stopped when he got close to the edge of the rune. The witch laughed, “You think you can attack me, Dayan? That trap symbol will keep you still if you misbehave.”

     Shiro was far too out of it to understand everything. The world was getting fuzzy now. Haggar looked over to him when he groaned. “So this is the famous Champion I’ve heard so much about. How delightful. He’ll make the perfect subject for my experiment. Take him up to my lab and don’t hurt him. I don’t want to see any more wounds on him than there are presently. Strap him down tightly. I can’t risk letting a ruthless killer escaping and killing everyone on board.” The guards uttered something in Galra. Shiro’s world went black and he could see no more.

 

* * *

 

     Thace sat across from Ankary in his Blade of Marmora ship. After Shiro was taken he got word to Thace and they cleared the coliseum ship before blowing it up like they had many times before. Haggar. He wanted to strangle her and slowly twist her insides before ripping them out. How did she know the symbol to trap a Dayan in place?! What was she going to do to Shiro?! Why couldn’t he just go in there and kill her himself?! He paced back and forth.

     “Agent Blackwell, take a deep breath,” Thace advised gently. Take a deep breath?! Take a deep breath?!! How was THAT going to help this situation?! No, he needed to correct this. He needed to get Shiro out of there before they do Daea knows what to him! Kolivan’s image was projected onto Thace’s ship computer monitor.

     “We’ll get him out of there, Agent Blackwell. As soon as we can find him,” The Blade of Marmora leader reassured. Of course it didn’t do much with Ankary’s fuming temper. He was supposed to protect the innocent and get them safely back to their homes while punishing the guilty. Why was he unable to protect a soul so pure of heart?! “I think it would be best if—.”

     Ankary slammed his fist into the table, glaring up at Kolivan with fiery rage burning in his eyes. His breathing was heavy as adrenaline ran through his blood. He signed that he wanted Shiro back. He wanted the human safe. Get him to safety. “And we will. I’ve got one of my best men, Ulaz, working on it. Rest assured Takashi Shirogane will be safe.” The Dayan narrowed his eyes and promised a silent threat with his hands. If Kolivan doesn’t rescue him, he will pay dearly.

     Thace put a hand on his shoulder and offered a small look of sympathy. “It’ll be alright.” Ankary hissed and smacked his hand away. He glared back at Kolivan. He was not going to let Shiro die. Not on his watch. Thace rubbed his back in an attempt to soothe him. As an alpha he could smell the distress coming off the omega, triggering his instinct to try and comfort. It took a few moments but Ankary managed to calm down enough to sign that Shiro was going to be safe…or else.

     “Understood, Agent Blackwell. Ulaz is already on his way to rescue your friend. Go and get some rest. You’ve earned it after all.” And like that the transmission ended. Ankary’s hard glare rested on the ground. He was right there, he should have been able to fight off that Haggar witch. Her magic abilities were strong, but he was confident that he could still take her. Thace continued to try and get him to calm down.

     After a while it did work and the exhaustion was settling in. A real bed sounded like heaven right about now. Bidding good night to the Galra spy, he left to the guest room where he was staying on the ship. The bed was so inviting. He didn’t even bother changing when he flopped down onto the mattress and instantly passed out a moment or two later.


	17. Chapter 17

     By the time the matches were over after the 4th or 5th day, most of the prisoners were out. Keith had done as he was instructed and got the prisoners who weren’t lined up for that day’s rounds out of their cells and away from the coliseum. Most of them had been battered and beaten with poor medical attention paid to their injuries, but they were alive. It broke his heart when he saw a mother alien with two of her young children being kept in the prison. The children, thank the stars, hadn’t been harmed, but Mom suffered a couple broken limps out of the 5 she used for walking and 4 she used for handling. He carried her since she was incapable of walking. The children were too scared to make any sounds as he snuck the passengers to the green lion to be carried back to the castle where they could recover in a med pod. At some point a ship that contained the Blade of Marmora joined the Castle of Lions to help with the escapes and healing.

     The sights were horrific, seeing so many prisoners terrified, tired from exhaustion and fighting for their lives. There was evidence of sorrow from their postures. These gladiators didn’t just have the toughest warriors fight each other, they had weaker prisoners who couldn’t defend themselves. It was just a slaughter house. Keith almost threw up when he opened one or two cells that contained dead bodies. The prisoners wailed for the loss when their friend or family or whoever died because they weren’t strong enough to survive overnight or committed suicide. Hope was far from all of them. His heart ached with the pain and suffering they all must have gone through at this point.

     He avoided the patrols and when he couldn’t, he silenced them before any alarms were raised and hid the evidence somewhere before continuing. The ship was a giant. Hallways were long, twisting and turning in multiple directions. Ceilings were low, but in the atria, they were higher than skyscrapers. Navigating them without getting caught soon became a challenge, by the end of the day, he was exhausted from running. At one point he ran by a viewing spot to the arena. Having completed his quota for that day, he dared a look into the gruesome horror show.

     It was near the end of the day so that meant Ankary was doing most of the fighting. He stood in the center of a dirt filled arena, four columns protruding from the floor. Ankary darted past his vision almost like lighting had struck. Keith glanced around until he locked onto the Dayan, darting on all four limbs, tail swinging around him in a protective and maneuverable manner. The opponent he was up against wasn’t very big. A small looking alien with tentacles for hair and an overall octopus look, but still humanoid. The alien screeched a high pitch sound as they whipped a futuristic crossbow around, aiming for Ankary.

     Ankary stumbled only once from a previous wound he got from said crossbow, but still he pressed on. Keith watched as he bore his fangs and teeth, jumping at her with all of his strength. With a powerful kick he launched through the air and tackled the alien to the ground. From there he latched onto his opponent using his sharp claws and dug his fangs deep into the shoulder. A bloodcurdling screech ripped through the air, above the cheering delight of the crowd that surrounded them. Keith watched in shock as he sunk his acidic venom into her body. Almost instantly she started rotting alive, the acid eating at her flesh and bone and muscle and whatever else was there.

     Violently he ripped his fangs out and she dropped to the ground. Strange tinted blood surrounded his lips and neck with little speckles reaching up his face and arms. Likewise his fingertips where coated in the same color with bits of flesh stuck to the claws. The nasty cheers of the crowd went wild as they watched the Dayan slump down to his hands and knees, panting hard. The alien thrashed and screamed, crying what could be interpreted as alien tears running down her face. Keith saw the hopelessness settle into her and the agony as too much to handle. She panicked as she was eaten alive by the venom. Finally she went still and Ankary clenched his fists.

     He got back up to his feet and twisted his body around to look at one of the Galra sitting in his luxury seat. He was told that this was Kaizar, the overseer to the gladiator matches. Mistress Amelia had said that he was a prime target, but by the way Ankary acted at just the sound of his name was more like a personal vendetta than anything. A menacing fire burned in his crimson eyes and his tail lashing around him, before digging into the ground for more. The red paladin saw Kaizar only laugh as Ankary dared him to come down there for a real fight.

     The match was over and Ankary was being led back the holding cell. In a panic Keith realized he needed to get back to the cell too. The last thing he needed was to be potentially spotted and ruin the whole covert operation. Taking the long route back, because there were less patrols this way, he made it back into the cell with ease and without raising any alarm. Before the handlers came close he inserted the access code and slipped inside. The cell was dark for the most part, all of them were. The place smelled of blood and rust. Keith shivered in the coldness of the air. Ankary wasn’t bothered by it, but Keith was. Heating the place barely above livable conditions for a human was the temperature all the time. Just as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he heard the approach of the handlers.

     The cell door opened to a Galra aiming their gun at Ankary. One of them undid the restraints. When they were off he jabbed him with the butt of his gun to force him inside. The cell shut and locked behind him. The Dayan hissed at them and banged on the window to the cell, but he didn’t react. Instead he returned to whatever he was assigned to do.

     Ankary slid to the floor, tired. The evidence of his fighting stuck out like a sore thumb. He was covered in bruises and there were slashes in his body suit, revealing cuts with blood dripping from a few. The same look he’d been sporting since they got there. The over shirt also took an obvious beating, getting torn in multiple places; it looked more tattered than before. The tips of his horns were stained with a green vicious substance, most likely the blood from an alien. The blade of his tail had the most bodily fluids and entrails on it. The Dayan wiped his mouth as it too had post kill evidence smeared on his lips and ran down his chin and neck. He closed his eyes and rubbed his head, wincing when he passed a certain spot under his long black hair. A sting of sorrow hit the red paladin’s chest. Is this what Shiro had to do when he was trapped for a whole year? It was miracle he survived this place.

     He sighed with relief when he heard the black paladin’s voice over the headset, “How’re you guys holding up?”

     Keith saw Ankary shake his hand in a “so-so” manner. “We’re fine,” Keith responded.

     “That’s good to hear.”

     “Guys, I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Lance spoke up, “but is there any chance you can hurry up with the rescues? Like, finish tonight?”

     “What? Why?” Keith and Ankary both looked at each other.

     “I just received transmission from the Blade of Marmora that another ship carrying prisoners is due to arrive at the coliseum in 20 vargas,” Princess Allura cleared up. “We need to get the remainder of the prisoners off that ship. The whole place must be evacuated before we can detonate it.”

     Ankary sighed and banged his head against the wall. Keith crossed his arms, not happy with the change of speed either. “How many prisoners are left?”

     “My computer is telling me that you have 7 more cells to clear. I’ve logged all of the mission prisoners as deceased in the arena to the coliseum’s system to prevent suspicion of the disappearances, but it’s up to you guys to clear those cells. I’ve also set the ship’s night cycle to start in about 1 varga. Get to it,” Pidge informed them.

     “Thanks Pidge, we’ll go when we’re ready.” Keith knelt down next to Ankary who was rubbing his shoulder and sore spot on his leg. He was injured, but they weren’t very severe. A little time in a healing pod and they would disappear as if they never existed. “You look like shit.” The Dayan glared sarcastically at him. “Will you be able to help clear the cells before the end of the night?” It took a moment, but he got a nod.

     Keith looked down at a nasty cut in his leg. The blood that surrounded it mingled with Ankary’s own blood. That was going to infect if not treated. He pulled his loose prisoner shirt off and used it as a rag to clean the blood as much as possible. Ankary flinched and hissed at him, but didn’t attack. “Calm down, I’m just going to bandage this.” After he finished mopping up the excess blood he pulled the dirty shirt back on, not like he really had any other choice to keep warm. These uniforms were probably covered in far worse than just blood anyway. He tore off a strip from the shirt and tightly wrapped it around the wound. Ankary adjusted the tightness and the way it settled over his leg, but eventually he relaxed. Now all they had to do was wait till the night cycle started before going out to finish the job.


	18. Chapter 18

     Ankary was the one having trouble keeping up. He and Keith ran from hiding spot to hiding spot. The red paladin said if he needed to stop for a break they could, but time was ticking. Ankary, being the stubborn ass he was, refused to pause and they kept going. To help clear the cells one of the Blade members disguised themselves as a guard to assist with clearing the cells and provided a ship for them to board. Only two cells remained. Exhausted from fighting all day, Ankary pressed on with Keith beside him. They waited for the patrols to pass and thanks to Pidge’s direction over the headset, they found the remaining cells of prisoners.

     The last cell only had 3 occupants. A father cradling an infant in his arms with another alien that had 5 eyes and green scaly skin stared up at them in fear. Ankary and Keith helped the aliens to their feet. “Don’t be afraid, we’re here to help,” Keith said. “Follow us and we’ll take you somewhere safe, away from here.” Ankary could sense the overwhelming joy that filled their auras.

     “Oh thank Hettas,” the father said. He held his small child close in his arms with a smile, but it vanished and he backed away. Ankary sensed a malicious aura and the sound of a revved up laser reached his ears. He whipped around to see two Galra soldiers ready to open fire on all of them.

     “Get on your knees,” One of them ordered. Both the Dayan and the red paladin did so and held up their arms. “Would you look at that, looks like our precious little Dayan has a heart after all to try and save his friends. Kaizar isn’t going to be happy when he finds out his precious Dayan is the one destroying all of his progress.” Ankary hissed sinisterly at them. He bore his fangs in a snarl and spat his acidic venom at them. If they were paying attention to his fighting, then they know what kind of damage could be caused by just touching the stuff. The guards backed away to avoid getting hit and one of them growled, revving up the intensity in his gun.

     Oh Daea. His cover was blown. Who knows what kind of punishment Kaizar would inflict on him once he finds out? Ankary’s heart sank. Just thinking about the possible treatments Kaizar would give him made his soul feel heavy. He was not going to survive this. The sound of bones cracking brought his mind back to reality. He looked up at the guards and both of them had their heads twisted at unnatural angles. Keith gasped and the prisoners behind him screeched. There was a moment of silence before their bodies fell to the ground, dead. Behind them stood the one person he did not expect to see, his mother.

     Mistress Amelia kicked them to the side and all at once a wave of relief rushed through the Dayan’s being. Seeing her standing there as like seeing a vision. For a brief second he swore he was hallucinating, but judging by Keith’s reaction next to him, he wasn’t. “Too bad you guys won’t be delivering the message,” her voice was so smooth and calm with a hint of ice cold rage behind it. She kicked the bodies out of the way and stood in front of Ankary and Keith. Her crystal ice blue eyes were firm in their authority and seriousness. Her tail swished behind her. “Get up; we still have a lot of work to do.” She didn’t hesitate before heading down the corridor.

     Ankary quickly got to his feet and urged the prisoners out of the cell. They were all on their way to the last ship just a few turns from their current position. Getting there wasn’t the problem, the problem was when they got to the loading dock they had to get everyone safely onto the escape ship. Lasers and shouts rang in the air as Blades, Galra soldiers and the other paladins were engaged in combat. Amelia cursed.

     Hunk was the first to spot the group and ran over to them, “Glad you could finally join us.”

     “Hunk, take these prisoners back to the castle, we’ll finish up here,” Keith said. Hunk aimed his canon at a guard heading right at them and fired. The intense light blasted through the air and hit him square in the chest, sending the Galra back against the wall. With Keith’s help they cleared a way for the prisoners to be ushered into the ship and shoot out into space, away from the danger. Keith got lost somewhere in the fray when he pulled out his blade to block an incoming attack from another soldier.

     Ankary looked to his mother; still unbelieving that she was here, fighting alongside him. How long had it been since she went on a mission with him? Together they pressed their backs against the other and readied their claws, tails and fangs. The young Dayan completely forgot about his exhaustion now. “Feel like taking on one last fight?” He shot a determined look at her, she returned it. “That’s my boy. Let’s finish this.”

     They leaped into action as Ankary blocked an incoming blow from a large Galra with white war paint running up his neck. He swung his tail around and slashed at the guard, but missed when he dodged it. Ankary got down on all fours and darted out of the way when a laser was shot in his direction. He circled around behind the guard faster than the guard had time to react and he sunk his claws into his neck, twisting it harshly. The sweet rewarding sound of the crunch of bone was so cathartic to him. The massive Galra fell to the ground and he focused on another to fight.

     Mistress Amelia was also quick on her feet. She managed to grab a blade from one of the dead bodies and used it to deflect her attacker. Her tail shot around the guard’s leg and she constricted her grip until it cracked under pressure. The guard screamed from agony and instantly fell to the ground. Amelia took the opportunity to pierce through his chest with the blade and silence him permanently.

     Across the room Ankary spotted Lance perched up on a ledge and aimed his futuristic gun bayard at the guards, taking them out from a distance. His ledge was compromised by a shot made by some unseen source and he lost balance. Ankary darted as fast as he could to catch him. He caught the paladin in midair and landed with a softer, less hazardous way. Lance rubbed his head and groaned until he was able to pull himself out of his stupor. The Dayan didn’t have time to check if he was alright before pushing around to take down another guard.

     One by one inexperienced guards were killed or incapacitated. Among the body count were also a couple of Blade soldiers. It was a blood bath. Ankary spotted Shiro fighting off a soldier 3 times his size. His prosthetic hand activated and he punched the guard in the face, leaving a burn mark where the skin or fur made contact. The guard roared and backed up to recuperate. The black paladin was ready for another strike when he was suddenly hit from behind. The Dayan hissed and swung his powerful tail at the new attacker, sending him skidding to the floor. Shiro caught him as he thrust his tail blade deep into the shoulder blade and twisted. The guard writhed, but his life force was drained and he died from bleeding out.

     They caught eyes when they suddenly heard Amelia’s voice call out, “Everyone get out of here. We’re blowing this place in 3 doboshes!” She then grabbed a guard by the throat before he could slash her with his blade. She thrust her clawed hand through his chest and ripped out his heart. Ankary looked around to see everyone following orders and they retreated to their ships, fighting off any attackers as they went. The paladins returned to their lions and Shiro urged both Ankary and Amelia to ride with him.

     Ankary and Amelia raced into the black lion with Shiro behind them. The lion roared a loud, mechanical call. Shiro took his spot in the cockpit and thrust the handles forward, commanding the lion to take off. Gladly the semi-sentient machine obliged and turned around before shooting off into open space. Ankary held on to whatever he could grab as they escaped the coliseum ship. When it was steady enough to stand, Amelia got up and looked out of the viewing window of the lion. She pressed a hand to her ear and activated her headset, “Kolivan, everyone is evacuated. You are clear for detonation.”

     “Roger,” Kolivan’s voice responded.

     “Let’s send them to Hell,” her comment was half aloud and half to herself, but both Ankary and Shiro heard her. Ankary watched as the ship got smaller and smaller with distance, the lion making a course for the castle. A bright flash of light ignited the darkness of space as the ship exploded into a ball of fire. It was like watching a mini supernova, beautiful, violent and deadly all at the same time. He caught sights of the shrapnel flying through space silently as the whole thing was blown apart. The fire lingered as the ship combusted and burned until all that was left were bits of ruined machinery and ash floating silently in space.

     The other ships that he could identify as allies were all headed for the same course. The red, blue and green lion were flying next to the black lion and a few of the Blades fighter ships could be seen as well. The Dayan took a deep breath and sat down on the ground, leaning against the dash board and closing his eyes. He could feel the pain of the wound in his leg pulse throughout his body as well as the soreness in his muscles setting in. Sleep sounded nice. The soft touch of Amelia’s hand on his shoulder gave him a warm reassurance. He could sense the pride radiating off her aura, “You did well, Agent Blackwell. You can get some rest soon enough.” The Castle of Lions came into view next to one of the larger ships that the Blade of Marmora had. They were surrounded by the swirling storms of the gas planet. Ankary relaxed another mission complete.


	19. Chapter 19

     “We’ve diploid ships to carry the prisoners back to their homes. The prisoners who are guilty on their own criminal charges will be kept in the custody of the Prison until they have served their sentences,” Kolivan informed everyone. Ankary was vaguely paying attention as he listened, he was just so tired. He really needed to sleep. All of the healing pods on the castle and the Blade of Marmora ship were taken up by prisoners who were the most severe in their injuries. That’s alright; he didn’t need a healing pod. He just needed a shower and some sleep. “Thank you for your help, Paladins of Voltron.”

     “Of course, we’re happy to help,” Hunk smiled. His aura was rather cheerful despite the obvious beating he apparently had taken. They all were on the brighter side. Another mission complete, and another arena closer to taking down Zarkon.

     “With this victory we can bring down Zarkon’s defenses and stop the cruelty of such awful places. The universe is safer thanks to your efforts,” Allura piped up. Ankary looked down at the ground. Something was still troubling him.

     “You don’t look so happy seeing as we just completed a successful mission,” Shiro teased. Ankary’s tail swished back and forth. True, he was pleased with the outcome, but something was missing. The Dayan got his mother’s attention and signed something to her. She watched patiently as he moved his hands in quick gestures.

     “Oh, Kaizar?” She questioned. “We actually don’t know where he is. He left some time after you finished your matches for the day. He’s most likely with another coliseum, overseeing the system there, but which one, we don’t know.” Ankary felt his soul burn with rage. That coward! He fled and left his men and prisoners to die?! He has so many crimes to pay for and Ankary was going to be the one to deliver the punishments. He scowled and folded his arms. Amelia turned to Allura when she got her attention. Ankary was too busy fuming to hear what she said, but he did manage to catch his mother’s response, “We’re gracious for your assistance, your highness. However, we can manage the rest from here. Voltron has other duties to attend to, I’m sure.”

     Ankary looked over the rest of the paladins and noticed Pidge sitting in her usual spot against the wall. He walked over and sat down next to her. She paused in what she was doing and looked up at him, “Something I can help you with?” Ankary touched his arm bands and activated the computer system. He searched through the files on the semi-transparent screen projected in front of him until he found the folder he was looking for. Opening it up, he tapped on the files and showed them to her. Her aura instantly lit up when she saw the ID picture of her brother, Matthew Holt. He swiped his finger across the screen and pulled up some video footage from the ship, depicting him running down the hallway. The time stamp of the footage was a few months ago, but it was there.

     “Matt…” She wistfully looked at the screen. Ankary closed the file and prepared it for a data transfer. Pidge feverously typed on her computer to open the gateway. The Dayan then pressed a few buttons and entered a couple of codes and information. The data was then sent right to the green paladin’s laptop, who let out an excited squeak. “How did you get this?” Ankary shrugged. He did some snooping here and there to see what he could find on the missing human since she was on an active search for him. Hopefully this will aid in her search. “Thank you, this means a lot.” She threw her arms around him and he just patted her back. From there he got up and returned to the rest of the group.

     His mother was busy discussing future plans with Kolivan and Lance was trying to get the princess to give him a victory kiss, resulting in Hunk rolling his eyes at his friend. Shiro pat Keith on the back, giving him his accolades for his success. Oh, right, there was something they needed to talk about. Ankary pulled his notepad up for both of them read the prompts he was writing: _We need to talk, privately._ He directed the message at Shiro. The paladins’ auras changed from lighthearted to concerned. Keith narrowed his eyes at him and Shiro furrowed his brow. Ankary gestured to the way, away from everyone else. The red paladin looked up at the black paladin, who shrugged.

     Together Ankary and Shiro walked to a more secluded part of the room, far from the excitement and celebration. Once they were alone the Dayan typed on his screen. _Thank you for your help. This mission went by a lot smoother than my previous exploits._

     “Yeah, we all had to learn that working in a team was better than working alone.” Both of them turned to the crowd to see a few final exchanges between the princess and the Blade of Marmora. Mistress Amelia was busy working out something with a couple of the other Blade members on a digital screen. Victorious cheers came from the paladins who were just as excited about their success as one would expect.

_You have a good thing here, a real sense of comradery. Maybe Voltron can actually bring balance back to this universe. That is, if you can refrain from doing anything stupid._

     Shiro laughed, “You know we’re bound to do something stupid sooner or later.”

     If he could, Ankary would roll his eyes. Humans. He glanced at Shiro’s prosthetic arm. _Let me see your arm._ Shiro curiously held it out for his inspection. The Dayan turned it over to look over the details and found a sort of hatch or hinge connected to it. This was an access point for the inner wirings. It took a little bit of know-how but he managed to prop it open and view the interior.

     A bunch of wires and cables were there, but a small container was hooked up to the machinery. It looked like an energy source or something. Whatever it was Ankary could sense the dark energy it emitted and he had to admit that he was wary towards it. Next to it was a control panel with buttons, a screen and a few measurement grams. Their purpose was unknown, but he guessed they were to measure how much energy was being used when activated or in sleep mode or maybe even Shiro’s vitals. Whatever they were they seemed to be evened out and in perfect functioning condition. This thing was definitely Galran technology and he didn’t like it.

     Shiro patiently watched as Ankary punctured a small wound in the tip of one of his fingers and pushed so a bead of blood pooled. Using it as a tool he drew a couple of small symbols under the hood of the control panel. They were ancient and when finished, radiated a strange energy that Ankary was familiar with, but Shiro only recognized when he made such symbols. They were simple in design, but something about them carried a force far beyond human understanding. He put the letters “P” under one and “AB” under the other. “What are those?” He asked when Ankary finished.

     The Dayan pointed one of the two symbols and typed “ _Protection”_ and then to the other and said _“Contact me for help”_. He closed the control panel and secured it. His eyes narrowed at the arm. _I do not like the energy this thing feeds off. I also do not trust that the enemy gave it to you. My suggestion would be to have your team construct a new one. One that does not have potential tracking devices, mind control, brainwashing or any magic Zarkon’s Druids can use against you. When you do, have those two symbols etched into the metal. The protection symbol will guard you from any ethereal influences like what the Druids use. The other is to contact me if you need assistance. Draw it on a floor in blood and say my name. I will answer._

     Shiro flexed the arm and twisted it as if he were testing the strength. Ankary bore his fangs in a stern, almost threatening manner. _Don’t do anything stupid._ With that he closed off his screen and they returned back to the group. The princess and the Blades were just barely saying their farewells to the Paladins. Amelia was waiting patiently for Ankary to join her. The Dayan glanced one last time at Team Voltron. They’ll do fine. One day this war will end and they will see not only Kaizar but Zarkon and his allies pay for their crimes. For now Voltron will be there every step of the way. This universe is in good hands.


	20. Chapter 20: Epilogue

     Shiro never thought that he and the other paladins would get an invite like this. As the castle approached the massive Galran coliseum ship, he suspected a trap. There was no way this was real. That was when 4 Blade of Marmora ships joined them on their path, acting as escorts. The pilots of the ships all sent a communication transmission reassuring the legitimate nature of this situation. One of the pilots from the ships spoke, “Voltron Castle of Lions, permission to board.”

     The paladins all looked at each other, each feeling wary about it. Shiro was the leader so he was the one to answer, “Permission granted. We’ll open the docking bay for you.” Allura pressed a few buttons on her console to do just that. They all left the bridge to head down to the docking bay where one of the Blade escort ships had landed. There stood 4 or so Blade members with Kolivan and Antok among them. Kolivan stepped forward to great them, giving them a formal bow. “Mind telling us what this is all about?” Shiro asked.

     “Mistress Amelia and Agent Blackwell are waiting for you aboard the coliseum. They can explain more. We are just here to escort you there. My men are happy to stay and watch the castle in your stead. All of you are invited, of course,” the Galra eyed each of them respectfully.

     “I think it would be best if one of us stays behind as well.” Keith chipped in. He was the most suspicious of all of them. There is no way in hell they are leaving the Blades to look after this place, even if they are allies.

     “I will,” Coran’s cheerful voice rang out. “I know every nook and cranny of this place, including the security systems.” There was some protest from the others, but he silenced them. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine here. I’ve worked this castle long before any of you were born.”

     “Alright then,” Shiro decided, “The paladins and the Princess will go while Coran stays here with a few Blade members to watch the ship.”

     Coran returned to the bridge with a few of the Blade members behind him and the rest entered the Blade ship, launching off into space. It didn’t take long for them to reach the docking bay to the coliseum ship. Kolivan answered a receiving transmission from them. Mistress Amelia appeared on the screen, wearing a headset with a microphone. The head band to keep it in place was adjusted to fit around her bulking ram horns and it almost looked uncomfortable, but she didn’t seem to mind, “You’re clear to land in the docking bay, Kolivan. Agent Blackwell will be waiting there to direct you further.”

     He nodded to her and the transmission ended. Soon they were all on the massive ship in the docking bay. It looked just like all the others from previous coliseums, big, dark, sharp, etc. How long ago was it that Voltron assisted Ankary in his mission? A few months? Time was hard to tell in space. When the ship landed, they all departed. Shiro noticed Keith’s tight grip on his bayard. He put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.” Keith was definitely uneasy about this, but Shiro wasn’t. If Ankary was there to meet them, he trusted him.

     Sure enough more Blade soldiers waited for them when they got off the ship. The paladins all dressed in their uniforms, Allura included. The Blades all had their masks on, except for one who stood next to Ankary.

     Whoa. Ankary looked different. For one thing he wasn’t wearing the prisoner uniform anymore. Instead he had a white, sleeveless trench coat with a red neck line that ran down his front into a “V” shape that disappeared under a black belt. He had on a black, sleevless body suit and boots that went up to his knees. His arm bands were more visible and they matched the color scheme of his attire. His hair was better groomed too. Sure it was still in a loose ponytail with a few of the front most tresses hanging around his shoulders, but it was cleaner, brushed more in unison. He looked cleaner. No more dirt or grim or blood or cuts or bruises littered his skin. It was just as smooth as if they never happened in the first place. The tired eyes were gone, the way he stood with renewed energy were also signs. He was still small and thin, but it was healthy for his lithe body type. Overall he looked healthier.

     “Whoa,” Lance whispered under his breath, but could be heard by those who stood next to him. Shiro would scold him for that, but he had to agree. Ankary looked good. He stepped forward to greet them with a slight bow at the hips. He moved his hands in front of him in a speedy fashion. The Galra without his mask on was watching him.

     “Welcome, paladins of Voltron and Princess of Altea. I’m glad you accepted the invite to act as witnesses for this,” the soldier spoke as Ankary signed. Oh, he was an interpreter. “Executions are a public matter, proof to the universe that whoever is charged gets their sentence served. We’ve received word that many of the prisoners who were captured and saved wanted to see Kaizar’s head roll for his maltreatment of them. So it will be broadcasted to them, but I invited you here because we need physical witnesses. It’s a whole lot of legal obligations that I won’t go into.”

     “So it’s true then, you really have Kaizar here?” Princess Allura’s voice had something that was unidentifiable. There were traces of disbelief, vengeance, and relief. Ankary nodded.

     “Indeed. I’ve been taking down all of the coliseums for longer than you have been paladins. The last of the coliseums has been destroyed, except for this one. The only prisoner here is Kaizar. His punishment ends the reign to those forsaken gladiator matches. I invited you because I thought you would also like it on record that arenas are no longer going to be in operation in the Galra Empire.” Ankary eyed Shiro in particular. He had to endure the torture for a year and suffered from it. The other prisoners who have been there even longer than him suffered worse.

     Many innocent eyes watched in horror as the last thing they saw was a blade slicing through them or a gun or laser or arrow pierced their fragile bodies. Painful, terrified screams that rang out in fear before they died and were silenced forever. A shudder shook the black paladin thinking of the paranoia he felt, not getting answers, if or when he will die there in a cold, dark cell or out in the unforgiving lights of the arena. It was over and he wanted to see the one in charge of it all pay.

     Ankary could sympathize with his heavy aura, thinking back to those events. They didn’t wait any longer as Ankary beckoned them to follow him. They entered further into the ship, navigating the passageways and passing by strange rooms with no identifiable purpose. Finally they entered into the arena. This one was clean, no terrain or obstacles littered the place like they were when ready to fight. This was bare. The seats surrounding it were empty. Blade soldiers lined up along the walls of the arena. In the center was a small platform with Kaizar tied down and chained to prevent escape. Mistress Amelia was there, standing with a military like pose. Ankary directed the paladins and the princess to their seats. He joined his mother in the center of the arena.

     Once everyone was situated, Mistress Amelia turned on her headset and faced Kaizar who growled at her. Her voice was loud and clear as it rang throughout the speakers of the mostly empty arena, “Commander Kaizar of the Galra Empire, you are hereby sentenced to be executed on several charges relating to security malpractice and abusing your oath as warden. You have violated Universal Law composing of the following charges: Neglect, malnutrition, murder, unreasonable punishment, torture, rape, abuse of prisoner caretaking, unlawful solicitation of entertainment, manslaughter, withholding prisoner rights, and grand arson. The Prison holds you as guilty of all these charges and sentences you to separation of soul and vessel in which the soul will be kept under permanent lockdown. Anyone found guilty of such crimes will suffer the same fate.”

     She looked over at Ankary and nodded for him to continue. Ankary approached the condemned Galra with a fire that burned in his crimson eyes. He searched the sorry alien’s soul for any remorse or fear. The only thing he saw was unadulterated fury. The Dayan raised a clawed hand in the air and quickly thrust it down right through his chest. Behind the gag, Kaizar convulsed and roared, but it was muffled at best. He thrashed in his restraints, but it was fruitless. Ankary felt a sick smile twist up on his lips as he pushed further in and grabbed onto the center of the Galra’s essence. In one solid movement he twisted his grip and ripped his fist out.

     Not a single drop of blood was spilt. There was no wound or remnants of entrails pulled out. No. Instead, Ankary held tightly onto a small source of white light that glowed brightly in his hand. It looked like a small star, streams creeping through the cracks between his fingers. His grip was tight on it and he watched as Kaizar trembled and struggled to breath. His yellow eyes were wide and he threw his head back as if he could see some ethereal force coming to drag him down into the depths of darkness. Then he moved no more. His body went limp and he slumped over. It was silent in the arena. With this soul, there will no longer be any more unnecessary fighting. No more putting prisoner’s lives on the line for the entertainment of others. It was done, gone, finished.

     Ankary dared a glance over the paladins and the princess. They were all shocked by the sight, but he could feel a sense of hope in their auras. He focused in in Shiro. Finally he could feel the one thing he wished so long for. It was an overwhelming sensation. It was as if all of those awful traumatizing experiences could start their healing process. Just seeing this meant that there was closure. The Dayan never thought he’d ever sense an aura that burned as intense as his with only one feeling to sum it all up. Justice.


End file.
